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HEROD 

A     TRAGEDY 


HEROD 


A   TRAGEDY 


BY 

STEPHEN    PHILLIPS 


JOHN  LANE  COMPANY:    NEW  YORK 

JOHN  LANE:  The  Bodley  Head:  LONDON 

MCMIX 


VK    . 


Copyright,  1900,  by 
JOHN    LANE 

Copyright,  1905,  by 
JOHN    LANE    COMPANY 


EIGHTH    EDITION 


UNIVERSITY    PRESS     •    JOHN    WILSON 
AND     SON      •      CAMBRIDGE,      U.  S.  A. 


TO 

HERBERT   BEERBOHM   TREE 

IN    LIFE   A   TRUE    FRIEND,    AND    ON    THE    STAGE 
THE   HEROD   OF   MY    DREAMS 

I    DEDICATE    THIS    TRAGEDY 


This  play  is  published  in  its  present  form 
to  7neet  the  demand  which  has  arisen  in  con- 
nection with  its  production  at  Her  Majesty's 
Theatre.  The  text  has  received  such  revision 
as  was  possible  in  the  time ;  but  the  author 
hopes  at  some  future  day  to  return  to  the 
theme. 


Characters  of  the  Play 

As  produced  at  Her  Majesty's  Theatre,  London,  England, 
October  ji,  igoo 

Herod Mr.  Tree. 

Kittg  of  the  Jews. 

Aristobulus Mr.  Norman  Sharp. 

High  Priest  and  Brother  of  Marianine. 

Gadias Mr.  C.  W.  Somerset. 

Chief  Councillor. 

SoHEMUs Mr.  F.  H.  Macklin. 

A  Gaul. 

Pheroras Mr.  F.  Percival  Stevens, 

Brother  of  Herod. 

A  Priest Mr.  S.  A.  Cookson. 

A  Physician Mr.  Charles  Fulton. 

Syll^us Mr.  J.  Fisher  White 

A  Blind  Man. 

A  Captain Mr.  James  Smythe. 

Envoy  from  Rome   .    .    .  Mr.  C.  F.  Collings. 

Cup-bearer Mr    L'Estrange. 

Servant Mr.  Cavendish  Morton. 

Mariamne Miss  Maud  Jeffries. 

Queen  and  Wife  of  Herod. 


6  CHARACTERS 

Cypros Miss  Bateman  (Mrs.  Crowe). 

Mother  of  Herod. 

BATiisHtBA Miss  Rosalie  Jacobi. 

Maia  to  Mariamne. 

Hagar Miss  Lillian  Mouerey. 

Alt  Old  Woman. 

Judith Miss  Frances  Dillon. 

A  Lady  of  the  Court. 

Salome Miss  Eleanor  Calhoun. 

Sister  of  Herod. 


ACT   I 


HEROD 

Time.  —  Afternoon  of  the  last  day  of  the  Feast  of 
Tabernacles. 

Scene.  —  The  great  hall  of  audience  in  the  Palace 
of  Herod  at  ferusalem,festoojied  with  garlajids 
Cfid  brat^est  offerings  for  the  Feast  of  Taber- 
nacles. Through  the  colonnade  at  back  is  seen 
the  sacred  Hill  of  Jerusalem,  with  the  Temple 
courts  and  Castle  of  Antonia,  separated  from 
the  Palace  by  the  Tyropoeon  valley.  On  the  R. 
a  flight  of  stairs  ascends  to  a  gallety,  leading 
to  the  royal  apartments.  At  the  top  of  this, 
guarding     a     bronze     door,    stands     Sohemus. 


lo  HEROD 

Gadias  sits  reading  documents  at  foot  of  throne. 
As  the  Curtain  rises,  a  faint  sound  of  accla- 
7nation  is  heard  without.  Sohemus  goes  and 
gazes  toivards  Jerusalem,  then  resumes  his 
guard. 

Enter  hurriedly  three  Messengers. 

1ST  M.    Is  the  king  risen?     From  Samaria  we, 
Breathless,  and  with  a  burnmg  tale  to  tell. 

SoH.    My  place  is  here  :  to  sentinel  this  door. 

2ND  M.    But  these  are  tidings  — 

SoH.  Here  I  stand  and  stir  not. 

3RD  M.    Believe   it,  sir  —  look  on  this  dust   and 
haste. 

SoH.    I  am  a  soldier,  and  obey. 

1ST  M.  But,  sir  — 

'T  is  Herod's  throne  —  his  life  perhaps  —  this  news  — 

SoH.    Must  wait. 

1ST  M.  When  is  there  hope  of  audience? 


HEROD  II 

SoH.   The  king  is  taking  now  his  noon-day  sleep, 
But  shortly  will  descend  with  ceremony 
To  greet  Aristobulus,  the  queen's  brother, 
Who  from  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles  comes, 
Newly  anoint  High-Priest. 

2ND  M.  Aristobulus? 

1ST  M.   Why,  't  is  of  him  we  come  to  speak. 
3RD  M.  'T  is  he 

Whom  the  fanatics  of  Samaria 
Would  throne  — 

SoH.  And  then  the  king  will  sit  in  Council. 

1ST  M.    Well,    sirs  —  we    must   await    the    king : 
come  then. 

[Messengers  retire  into  background.    Sohe- 
MUS  resumes  his  guard.     Enter  below 
Salome  in  agitation. 
Salome.   Is  the  king  waked  ? 
SoH.  Princess,  I  stand  on  guard. 

He  hath  commanded,  and  I  know  no  more. 


12  HEROD 

Salome.    Rouse  him. 

SoH.  'T  is  not  in  my  direction. 

Salome.   Then  give  way  to  me. 

SoH.  I  stir  not. 

Salome.  I  will  pass. 

SoH.    Princess,  not  while  I  live. 

Salome.  The  king  shall  hear  me. 

Her  arrogance,  her  stillness  and  her  stare  — 

SoH.   The  king  will  hear  no  tale  against  the  queen. 

Salome.   Why,   in  the   streets,   along    the   public 
ways. 
Are  pointing  figures,  and  a  running  taunt, 
'  See  Herod's  low-born  sister  ! '     And  the  children 
Are  lifted  upon  shoulders  to  behold 
'  The  Idumean  woman  —  '     Now  give  way. 

SoH.   The  king  will  hear  no  tale  against  the  queen. 

Salome.    O,  't  is  a  madness,  but  it  shall  be  cured 
Now  —  and  by  me. 

SoH.  Princess,  there  is  no  passing. 


HEROD  13 

Salome.    I  am  refused  then.     Am  refused  redress. 
She  turns  and  perceives  Gadias. 
Ah  there,  Gadias  !     Witness  you  this  thing? 
Witness  —  I  am  denied  by  my  own  brother. 
Where  is  the  king  then  ? 

Gadias.  Well,  he  rests,  no  doubt. 

All  night  he  wanders  through  Jerusalem, 
And  listens  in  disguise  the  public  talk, 
And  he  resorts  with  priest  and  Pharisee, 
With  smithy  gossips,  bearers  at  the  well, 
With  travellers  and  with  feasters  in  the  booths. 
Little  their  talk  will  please  him — • 

\_A  cry  of  acclamation. 

Salome.  Whence  that  cry? 

Gadlvs.   The  multitude  acclaims  Aristobulus. 

Salome.     Ah ! 

Gadias.  Well  — 

Salome.  I  'H  bear  no  more  with  Mariamne, 

Although  the  blood  of  all  the  Maccabees 


14  HEROD 

Runs  in  her  veins,  and  we  are  alien, 

Alien  and  kinless,  yet  doth  this  excuse 

That  still  superb  unrealising  stare 

Or  deeper  and  diviner  disregard. 

And  silence  full  of  arrows  and  of  tongues? 

And  he  shall  hear  me  yet. 

\_Extt 

Gadias.  a  woman's  quarrel 

And  nothing  more  ?     Well  — 
[7^  SoHEMus.]  Is  the  king  awake  ? 

SoH.     I  know  not,  sir  ;  here  were  three  fellows,  hot 
Out  of  Samaria,  and  there  too  they  scheme 
To  enthrone  Aristobulus. 

Gadias.  Still  —  and  still 

Aristobulus  ! 

Enter  Pheroras. 
Is  the  guard,  Pheroras, 
Safe  ?     To  be  leaned  on  ? 

Pher.  To  the  uttermost. 


HEROD  15 

Gadias.    We  shall  have  need  of  them. 

Pher.  And  on  the  instant? 

Some  new  thing? 

Gadias.  In  Samaria  a  plot 

To  crown  Aristobulus. 

Pher.  Is  the  king 

'Ware  of  all  this? 

Gadias.  He  is  'ware  of  all  things  —  but  — 

Pher.     ^Vhy  then  ? 

Gadus.  The  woman. 

Pher.  Who  ? 

Gadias.  Always  the  woman. 

Pher.    But  how? 

Gadias.  The  boy  Aristobulus  bears 

Some  likeness  to  his  sister  the  loved  queen, 
Some  mole  at  the  back  of  his  neck  or  — 

Pher.  Come,  Gadias. 

Gadias.    Your  pardon  —  he  is  like  to  Mariamne, 
Therefore,  although  he  may  hurl  Herod  down, 


10  HEROD 

We  may  not  touch  him  —  he  may  grasp  the  throne  j 

Well  —  he  is  like  to  Mariamne  —  or 

He  may  kill  Herod.     Well,  he  is  most  like 

To  Mariamne.     All  to  please  the  queen 

He  is  made  high-priest :   Herod,  to  please  the  queen 

Hath  raised  himself  a  rival  in  this  boy. 

\_During  this  speech  various  Councillors, 
etc.,  have  come  slowly  in.  A?iother  cry 
of  acclamation  is  heard. 

1ST  COUN.    Gadias,  there  is  peril  in  that  cry. 

2NT)  CouN.  For  young  Aristobulus  is  the  shout. 

3RD  CouN.   The  darling  of  the  multitude. 

1ST  CouN.  And  sprung 

Of  the  old  blood. 

Young  Coun.        And  all  behind  him  is 
A  sense  of  something  coming  on  the  world, 
A  crying  of  dead  prophets  from  their  tombs, 
A  singing  of  dead  poets  from  their  graves. 

Gadias.  I  ever  dread  the  young  :  well,  as  you  know. 


HEROD  17 

Herod  is  our  sole  stay. 

2ND  CouN.  Our  brain  —  our  arm. 

Pher.    He,  he  alone  postpones  the  Roman  doom. 

3RD  CouN.    If  Herod  then  by  mutiny  should  fall  — 

1ST  Capt.   That  moment  swoop  the  yelling  eagles 
down. 

2ND  Capt.    Have  those  two  eagles  with  the  world 
for  prey 
Yet  closed  to  talon  reach? 

Pher.  I  know  not,  sir. 

CouN.    Octavius  Csesar  and  Marc  Antony. 

Gadias.    Herod  is  fast  bound  unto  Antony. 

1ST  Capt.    If  Csesar  then  should  triumph  — 

Gadias.  Then  'twere  ill 

For  friends  of  Antony. 

CouN.  Herod  —  and  us. 

2ND  Capt.    But  Antony  's  the  elder  soldier  — . 

Gadias.  Well  — 

Pher.    Octavius  is  a  lad  — 

3 


i8  HEROD 

Gadms.  The  lad  fights  free. 

No  Cleopatra  hangs  about  his  neck. 

Enter  Servant  rapidly  down  gallery  stairs. 
Serv.    \_To  Gadias.] 
The  king,  sir,  will  descend  with  ceremony 
To  greet  the  new  High-Priest  Aristobulus. 
Gadias.    And  in  what  mood? 
Serv.  He  hath  said  nothing,  sir. 

\Another  cry  of  acclamation. 
Listen,  that  cry.     It  was  not  for  the  king. 

\J\Tusic  is  heard  from  without,  and  groivs  louder 
as  the  procession  of  people  fro7n  the  Feasts  of 
Tabernacles  cogues  in  dancing  and  carrying 
wreaths  of  fruit  and  flowers,  with  boughs  of 
palm,  willow  and  citron.  Following  them  walks 
Cypros  and  Salome,  and  lastly  AIariamne,  lead- 
ing Aristobulus  by  the  hand.  As  these  take 
place  by  the  foot  of  the  throne,  the  door  of  the 
private  apartments  opens,  and  Herod,  ceremoni' 


HEROD  19 

ally  dressed^  comes  down  the  stairs   a?id  seats 
himself  on  the  throne.     There  is  a  loud  acclama- 
tion for  Aristorulus,  a7ul  a  faint  ojie,  led  by 
Gadias,  for  Herod, 
Mar.    {Leading  Aristobulus  before  Herod.] 
Herod,  before  all  these  I  here  would  thank  you 
For  honouring  thus  the  Asmonean  House. 
And  making  thus  my  brother  the  high-priest. 
Since  his  ancestral  office  he  resumes, 
We  three  are  bound  unto  each  other  more : 
With  him  the  rites  of  peace,  with  thee  the  sword, 
With  me  a  reconciling  love  for  both. 

Ch.  Priest.    {Speaking  on  steps  —  advancing.'] 
Oh,  people,  lo  the  anointed  of  the  Lord ; 
May  God  send  down  on  him  His  glory  of  old, 
And  for  his  sake  forbear  to  bend  the  bow, 
In  the  day  of  ire  and  darkness,  in  that  day. 
Lo,  the  High-Priest  of  God  —  Aristobulus. 
{A  vast  shout  of  acclamation,  taken  up  by  the  throng; 


20  HEROD 

Mariamne  in  sudden  delight  leaves  Herod's  side, 
and  embraces  Aristobulus. 

Mar.    Brother,  I  glow  all  o'er  to  hear  your  name 
Cried  and  cried  out.     O  thou  art  holy,  child ; 
About  thee  is  the  sound  of  rushing  wings 
And  a  breathing  as  of  angels  thro'  thy  hair. 
Yet,  brother,  even  now  forget  me  not. 

Aris.    O  Mariamne,  tell  me  not.     I  am  tired. 

Mar.    Even  in  this  hour  remember  still  faint  dawns 
When  you  and  I  together  slipp'd  away 
To  the  dark  fields,  and  cried  out  to  each  other 
At  each  new  flower  we  found. 

Aris.  I  am  a  man 

Now,  and  must  put  such  softnesses  away. 

Mar.   Was  ever  brother  loved  as  thou  art  loved? 

Aris.    I  am  deaf  with  praises,  and  all  dazed  with 
flowers ; 
Cling  any  to  me  yet? 

Mar.  Yes,  here  and  here. 


HEROD  21 

Aris.   Give  me  that  palm  leaf,  I  will  wear  it  so. 
Woman.   \_Adva71cing from  the  crowd.'\ 
O  holy,  wilt  thou  suffer  these  my  children 

To  touch  thy  garment  hem  ? 

Aris.  Oh,  yes. 

\The  Children  are  brotight  forward  aftd 
touch  his  rode. 
Old  Man.  And  me 

To  kiss  thy  hands. 

Aris.  My  hands  are  worn  with  kisses. 

Old    Man.       O    thou    of    the     old    Asmonean 
blood, 
Remember  those  dead  priests  that  yet  were  kings. 

\^A  general  shout.     Herod's  brow  darkens. 
Aris.     Their  blood  is  thrilling  in  me. 

\j4.nother  shout. 
Mar.  Beautiful, 

Thy  face  did  dim  the  gold  of  the  Temple  —  yet  — 
Aris.   Well,  sister. 


22  HEROD 

Mar.  Oh,  let  it  not  lure  thee,  child. 

[^S/ie  again  puts  her  arm  round  his  neck. 

Aris.    Ah,  sister.     Kiss  me  not.     I  am  tired. 

Mar.  Still 

Remember  me.     I  am  so  wrapped  in  thee ; 
My  love  hath  hovered  round  thee  since  thy  birth ; 
I  have  suffered  like  a  mother  in  my  dreams 
For  thee. 

Aris.         But  oh,  the  raining  of  the  blooms ; 
The  cymbals  and  the  roarings  and  the  roses  ! 
I  seemed  to  drink  bright  wine  and  run  on  flowers. 
Nay,  Mariamne,  how  should  I  forget  thee  ? 

Mar.  Child,  I  would  be  with  thee  to  hold  thee  close. 

Aris.    No,  lean  henceforth  on  my  protecting  arm. 

Mar.    Almost  I  could  laugh  at  you,  but 't  is  laughter 
That  dies  off  sudden. 

Ch.  Priest.  To  the  closing  feast 

Depart,  O  people,  now,  with  song  and  dance. 

\^Exeunt  all  but  Herod  and  Gadias. 


HEROD  23 

Herod.    A  child  !  Gadias,  wandering  night  by  night 
Among  the  people  of  Jerusalem, 
I  hear  a  whispering  of  some  new  king, 
A  child  that  is  to  sit  where  I  am  sitting ; 
The  general  boding  hath  ta'en  hold  of  me. 
If  this  thing  has  been  fated  from  the  first  — 

Gadias.    It  is  the  fault  of  dreamers  to  fear  fate. 

Herod.    \_Dreamily.'] 
And  he  shall  charm  and  smoothe,  and  breathe  and 

bless, 
The  roaring  of  war  shall  cease  upon  the  air, 
Falling  of  tears  and  all  the  voices  of  sorrow, 
And  he  shall  take  the  terror  from  the  grave. 

Gadias.   The  malady  is  too  old  and  too  long  rooted. 
The  earth  ailed  from  the  first ;  war,  pestilence, 
Madness  and  death  are  not  as  ills  that  she 
Contracted,  but  are  in  her  bones  and  blood. 

Herod.   And  he  shall  still  that  old  sob  of  the  sea, 
And  heal  the  unhappy  fancies  of  the  wind, 


24  HEROD 

And  turn  the  moon  from  all  that  hopeless  quest ; 
Trees  without  care  shall  blossom,  and  all  the  fields 
Shall  without  labour  unto  harvest  come. 

Gadias,    Dangerous  —  labourers  thrown  from  work 

rebel. 
Herod.    A    gentle    sovereign.      Ah,    might   there 
not  be 
Some  power  in  gentleness  we  dream  not  of? 

Gadias.   The  gentle  are  tame  birds  that  feed  the 

hawk. 
Herod.    To  overcome  by  other  ways  than  steel. 
Gadias.   A  somewhat  sudden  change  of  policy. 
It  has  not  been  our  way ;  and  was  not  when 
You  murdered  the  whole  Sanhedrin, 

Nor  when 
You  struck  down  Malchus  on  the  Tyrian  beach, 
Or  bribed  Mark  Antony  to  slay  — 

Herod.  Ah,  no  — 

'T  is  not  for  us.     A  momentary  thought 


HEROD  25 

Like  a  strange  breeze  in  darkness  on  the  cheek. 
Still  must  we  trample,  crush,  corrupt,  and  kill. 
And  he  shall  be  king  of  the  Jews. 

Gadias.   Perhaps  Aristobulus,  then? 

Herod.  Wild  is  the  time  ; 

Abroad,  Octavius  and  Marc  Antony, 
Like  rival  thunders  from  opposed  poles, 
Are  rushing  to  that  shock  which  splits  the  world. 
Now  Antony  is  grappled  to  my  side, 
And  on  his  victory  this  realm  depends. 
Enter  in  haste  three  Messengers  followed  by  various 
Councillors  and  Captains. 

1ST  M.    Lo,   out   of    Egypt,    we  —  breathless,    O 
king. 

Herod.   Well  —  well  ? 

1ST  M.  O  king  —  disaster. 

Herod.  Speak  then,  speak. 

2ND  M.    O  king,  the  demi-emperor  of  the  world  — 

Herod.   Say  —  say. 


26  HEROD 

2ND  M.        O  king  —  Marc  Antony  is  dead. 

[  General  consternation. 
Herod.     Antony   dead?      Antony   dead?      How 

slain  ? 
3RD  M.    Off  Actium  his  fleet  from  Csesar  fled. 
He,  with  dishonour  mad,  fell  on  his  sword. 
Herod.   Antony  dead? 

Gadias.  Now  trembles  all  Judsea. 

Herod.    My  sole  friend    of    the   world,    grasping 
whose  hand, 
I  feared  not  Csesar  nor  the  roar  of  Rome. 
Can  ye  not  hear  the  legions  on  the  wind  ? 
Now,  now  — 

\Several  Captains  rush  in. 
Capt.      Arm  —  arm  —  and  without  pause. 
Another.  ,  Equip 

Ships  on  the  instant. 

CouN.  Make  submission  straight. 

Pher.    Retire  to  the  inner  fort. 


HEROD  27 

Another.  To  Antonia. 

Gadias.    Bribe  Cleopatra  with  the  balsam  groves 
Of  Jericho  to  hold  young  Caesar  fast 
With  kisses,  till  the  stabber  find  his  way. 

Herod.   I  will  do  none  of  these.     I  '11  go  and  meet 

Octavius  Csesar. 
Gadl\s.  Madness. 

Herod.  If 't  were  thou. 

1ST  U.   To  Syria  comes  he,  and   must  touch   at 

Rhodes. 
Herod.  To  Rhodes  I  go  then. 

[  General  surprise. 

And  I  go  to-night. 
[  Various  Councillors  approach  Herod  with  dis- 
suading gestures. 
Herod.   To-night !     You  are  dismissed.     To  you, 
Pheroras, 
My  legions  on  all  frontiers  or  within 
The  walls  :  to  you,  Gadias,  all  the  strings 


28  HEROD 

Of  policy  I  leave  :  whom  to  corrupt 
And  whom  to  kill,  and  whom  to  magnify  : 
To  you,  Sohemus,  I  commend  the  queen. 
Away  !  Gadias,  stay. 

\Exeiint  SoHEMUS  and  Pheroras. 
And  yet  to  leave 
Behind  — 

Gadias.        Ah  —  there  my  point  is. 
Herod.  Mariamne. 

Gadias.    O  Herod,  others  must  you  leave  behind. 
Aristobulus  — 

Herod.  Ah  — 

Gadias.  You  go  —  and  leave  him 

Brain  of  the  east ;  by  thee  we  stand  or  fall ; 
You  are  Judsea,  and  in  this  large  thought 
No  single  life  is  rich,  not  mine,  not  his. 
This  morn  three  fellows  from  Samaria 
A  plot  to  crown  him,  and  to  have  your  life. 

Herod.   What  messenger  can  tell  me  a  new  thing? 


HEROD  29 

Gadias.    And    knowing  this,  you  leave  that  seed 
of  peril  — 

Herod.    But  Mariamne  loves  him  so. 

Gadias.  Most  plain 

To  all  —  indeed  it  seemed  that  —  pardon. 

Herod.  Cease. 

And  he  is  like  to  her  about  the  brow  — 
I  strike  at  Mariamne,  striking  him, 
Perhaps  even  at  myself;  perhaps  myself. 

Gadias.   Then  if  because  he  hath  her  face,  her 
voice  — 

Herod.   Ah,  hath  he  not? 

Gadias.  A  trick  perhaps. 

Herod.  ■^  trick. 

One  could  not  get  by  heart  that  sweetness,  not 
From  noon-foam  of  the  Mediterranean 
Nor  long  and  leafy  Lebanonian  sigh 
To  lone  Abanah  under  Syrian  stars. 

Gadias.    If  for  this  likeness  you  postpone  the  realm, 


3° 


HEROD 


'T  were  wiser  not  to  go. 

Herod.  I  go  — 

Gadus.  And  then  — 

Aristobulus. 

Herod.         I  have  said  it. 

Gadias.  But 

Aristobulus  ? 

Herod.         I  will  flatter  Csesar  — 

Gadias.   Aristobulus  then  ? 

Enter  Sohemus  in  haste. 

SoH.  The  city  is  up ; 

The  multitude  about  the  temple  roars 
<  Aristobulus,'  and  *  Herod  the  Upstart ' ; 
And  blind  Syllaeus  hails  him  as  that  king 
That  is  to  come. 

Gadias.  You  have  no  need  of  me, 

You  know  my  mind  —  and  here  are  younger  men. 

[Earnestly    and  privately    to    Herod    l^e/ore 
going. 


HEROD  31 

Still  must  we  trample,  crush,  corrupt,  and  kill? 

\_Exii  Gadias.     Murmurs  outside, 
Herod.    Sohemus,  in  the  midst  of  this  I  go 
And  leave  behind  Aristobulus  —  well, 
I  have  preferred  you,  lifted  you  on  high. 
SoH.    Herod,  I  am  your  slave,  your  dog. 
Herod.  Well  then, 

If  I  should  have  a  need  of  you.     But  how? 
When  I  shall  put  this  ring  upon  your  finger, 
Then  one  must  be  removed  for  the  State's  welfare. 
E titer  Servant. 
Serv.    O  king  !  the  Prince  Aristobulus  asks 
To  say  farewell  to  you. 

Enter  Aristobulus. 
Arts.  Brother,  I  come 

To  say  farewell  to  you.     I  go  to  cool  me 
Outside    the    walls,    and     feared     you    should    be 

gone 
When  I  returned. 


32  HEROD 

Herod.    [_Goi?ig  to  touch  his  head,  but  cannot."] 
Farewell,  Aristobulus. 

Arts.    \_Ltghtly.']     And,  sir,  you  leave  the  city  in 
strong  hands. 
I  have  grown  up  in  a  day.     Did  you  not  hear 
The  acclamations  as  I  waded  hither 
Knee-deep  in  flowers?     You  go  then  with  less  fear  — 
And  Mariamne  — 

Herod.  Cease.     Then  whither  go  you? 

Aris.    To  bathe. 

Herod.  To  bathe  ?  \_Looks  at  Sohemus,  who  starts.] 

Aris.  Yonder  in  the  great  pool. 

Herod.   And  are  you  to  deep  waters  used? 

Aris.  Oh,  yes. 

Herod.   You  know  the  pool  well? 

Aris.  Oh,  from  side  to  side. 

Herod.     Yet  are  there  no  entangling  reeds  that 
drag 
Downward  ? 


HEROD  33 

Aris.    I  fear  them  not.     Ah,  for  the  plunge, 
The  upward  burst,  and  the  long  dart  through  waters. 

Herod.    Go  you  alone  ? 

Aris.    Oh,  yes. 

Herod.  Were  it  not  well 

Some  other  went  with  you  —  Sohemus  here? 

Aris.    I  shall  be  glad  of  him. 

Herod.  Stay  not  too  long. 

Aris.    Farewell  then,  Herod. 

Herod.  I  have  said  it. 

Aris.  So  ? 

It  may  be  that  I  shall  return  in  time. 
But  I  so  love  the  waters,  I  may  linger 
Floating  upon  my  back  thus,  and  my  face 
Skyward,  and  you  depart  not  seeing  me ; 
So  now  farewell ! 

Will  you  not  look  at  me? 

Herod.    Farewell  again. 

[Exit  Aris.,  slowly.     Sohemus  starts  for- 
3 


34  HEROD 

ward.     Herod  puts  the  ring  on   his 
finger. 
SoH.  O  king  ! 

[Herod  points   tneaningly  to   Sohemus   to 
follow  Aris. 

[Exit  Sohemus. 
Herod.    He  hath  her  eyes. 
Thou  art  too  Uke  to  Mariamne  ■ —  ah  ! 

Enter  Attendant  from  back. 
Atten.  O  king  !  the  queen  would  have  you  go  to  her. 
Herod.   The  queen?  ah,  no.     Not  yet  —  not  on 
the  instant. 
Say  I  will  come  at  dusking,  ere  I  go. 
No,  no ;  I  cannot  look  on  thee  so  soon. 
I  have  struck  him  down,  and  fear  is  come  on  me ; 
Yet  I  ne'er  feared  before ;  not  when  I  slew 
The  assembled  Sanhedrin,     Why  do  I  tremble  ? 
Not  that  I  have  contrived  this  murder,  this 
Most  politic,  most  necessary  act. 


HEROD  35 

Then  why  this  apprehension  mystical, 
This  beaded  forehead,  and  this  quaiUng  flesh? 
Dimly  I  dread  lest  having  struck  this  blow 
Of  my  free-will,  I  by  this  very  act 
Have  signed  and  pledged  me  to  a  second  blow 
Against  my  will.     What  if  the  powers  permit 
The  doing  of  that  deed  which  serves  us  now ; 
Then  of  that  very  deed  do  make  a  spur 
To  drive  us  to  some  act  that  we  abhor? 
The  first  step  is  with  us ;  then  all  the  road, 
The  long  road  is  with  Fate.     O  horrible  ! 
If  he  being  dead  demand  another  death. 

[_lFa/ks  backwards  into  Mariamne's  armSy 
she  having  entered  softly  behind  him. 

Mar.   You  are  in  some  peril,  Herod? 

Herod.  I?     No  — no. 

Mar.    But  see,  great  drops  have  gathered  on  your 
brow. 

Herod.    I  am  well  now. 


36  HEROD 

Mar.  Then  come  —  for  the  first  time 

You  have  deferred  me  —  come  —  you  go  to-night, 
Our  love  is  at  its  noon  —  then  be  with  me. 
\_Thcy  slowly  ascend  the  galiejy  steps.     Half-way  up 
he  makes  as  if  to  descend. 
Herod.    I  have  a  thing  to  do,  and  on  the  instant. 
Mar.    \Putting  her  arm  about  him.']     'T  is  not  of 

such  import. 
Herod.  The  pool ! 

Mar.  Come,  come. 

\_They  go    off   together.     Music.     Pause.     The    sky 

darkens. 
[  Various  Women  and  Bathsheba  cot?ie  slowly  on  in 
the  gallery  above.     A  tinkling  sound  rises  up  from 
the  city.     First  a  Woman  enters ,  fanning  herself. 
Bath.    A  breeze,  a  breeze.     Did  you  not  feel  it  ? 
A  Woman.  Yes. 

But  when  again? 

Another.  I  droop. 


HEROD  37 

Another.  I  faint. 

Another.  Oh,  when? 

Another.   Stand  from  me.     Air  is  coming  —  ah! 

Another.  At  last. 

Another.   Delicious. 

Another.  There  is  mercy  from  the  West. 

Bath.    Slowly  it  lifts  my  hair. 

Another.  Listen,  the  trees. 

Woman.   The  low  long  <  Ah  '  of  foliage. 

Another.  And  a  star. 

Bath.    O  breathing  of  balsam  and  of  citron  groves. 
A  moment ! 

Another.     Myrtle  then. 

Another.  And  then  a  waft 

Of  cassia — 

Another.     And  a  wandering  cedar  scent. 

Another.    Now  one  can  breathe.     Come  out  into 
the  cool. 

\J[fusic.     Exeunt  all  but  Bathsheba. 


38  HEROD 

Bath.    Above,  star  after  star ;  in  the  city  beneath 
Lamp  after  lamp.     Oh  !  would  I  were  down  there  ! 
Now  strings  are  touched,  and  they  begin  to  dance. 
Oh,   would    I   were   down  there !     How   sweet   the 
night ! 

[_Exit. 
Enter  Cypros  and  Salome. 

Salome.   No ;  I  '11  not  stay. 

Cypros.  A  little  patience,  child. 

Salome.    I  hate  her,  mother. 

Cypros.  Do  I  love  her? 

Salome.  Time 

Hath  taken  the  sting  from  you. 

Cypros.  I  do  not  waste  it, 

And  when  I  dart  it  forth  I  kill,  not  prick. 

Salome.    If  you  can  patiently  support  — 

Cypros.  I  can. 

And  patiently  prepare  revenge. 

Salome.  But  how? 


HEROD  39 

Cypros.    Child,  I  foresee,  though  dimly,  a   great 
vengeance. 

Salome.    If  I  saw  that  — 

Cypros.  Remember  Herod's  love  — 

That  madness,  easy  to  be  worked  upon  — 
For  Mariamne.  Then  her  love,  how  deep 
For  young  Aristobulus. 

Salome.  Yet  how,  how? 

Cypros.    Still  clearer   then?     Remember  Herod's 
rage 
At  acclamations  on  her  brother  heaped ; 
Remember  the  set  teeth  and  veiled  glare. 

Salome.    Oh  —  I  begin  to  see. 

Cypros.  No  more  is  ripe. 

I  keep  this  phial  here  close  to  my  heart. 
Did  not  the  great  astrologer  foretell 
'  Herod  shall  famous  be  o'er  all  the  world. 
But  he  shall  kill  that  thing  which  most  he  loves.' 
I  feared  then ;  but  not  now. 


40  HEROD 

Salome.  No  —  we  are  safe. 

CvPROS.   Then  will  you  leave  the  palace? 

Salome.  No  ;  I  '11  stay 

Upon  the  chance ;  yet  would  I  tear  her  beauty 
Thus  with  my  nails. 

Cypros.  You  speak  as  might  a  girl, 

But  I  will  have  — 

Salome.  What  —  what  ? 

CvPROS.  Her  life  ;  no  less ; 

I  '11  send  her  to  that  democratic  doom 
Down  to  the  levelling  grave ;  and  she  shall  die 
Not  at  our  hands. 

Salome.   Who  then  shall  do  this  thing? 
Speak ;  who  ? 

Cypros.  Wait :  wait,  I  say,  and  watch. 

l^Exeunt  Cypros  and  Salome. 

Herod.   That  star  is  languorous  with  divine  excess  1 

Mar.    O  world  of  wearied  passion  dimly  bright ! 

Herod.  Now  the  armed  man  doth  lay  his  armour  by, 


HEROD  4« 

And  now  the  husband  hasteth  to  the  wife. 

Mar.    The  brother  to  the  sister  maketh  home. 
Herod.   Now  cometh  the  old  lion  from  the  pool. 
Mar.   And  the  young  lion  having  drunk  enough. 
How  still  the  time  is  for  this  journey  wild. 
But,  Herod,  you  are  going  into  peril. 

Herod.   The  peril  hath  a  glitter  for  thy  sake. 

\^Comes  dowfi  steps. 
Mar.   Ah  —  must  you  go  ? 

Herod.  To  match  myself  with  Rome. 

Great  difficulties  bring  delight  to  me. 

Mar.    And  most  for   this   I    love  you,  and  have 
loved, 
That  when  you  wooed,  behind  you  cities  crashed, 
Those   eyes    that    dimmed    for   me    flamed    in    the 

breach. 
And  you  were  scorched  and  scarred  and  dressed  in 

spoils, 
Magnificent  in  livery  of  ruin. 


42  HEROD 

You  swept  denial  off  and  all  delay, 
You  rushed  on  me  like  fire,  and  a  wind  drove  you, 
Thou  who  didst  never  fear,  Herod,  my  Herod. 
Now  clasp  me  again  as  thou  didst  clasp  me  then, 
When  like  a  hundred  lightning  brands  upsprung 
In  the  night  sudden.     Then  did  you  laugh  out 
And  whirled  me  like  a  god  through  the  dark  away. 

Herod.    How  shall  I  go  now? 

Mar.  I  'd  not  have  you  stay. 

For  could  you  stay  you  were  no  more  my  Herod. 
How  bright  the  towered  world  ! 

Herod.  The  towered  world ; 

And  we,  we  two  will  grasp  it,  we  will  burst 
Out  of  the  East  unto  the  setting  sun. 

Mar.   Thou  art  a  man. 

Herod.  With  thee  will  be  a  god ; 

Now  stand  we  on  the  hill  in  red  sunrise. 

Mar.    Now  hand  in  hand  into  the  morning. 

Herod.  Ever 


HEROD  43 

Upward  and  upward  —  ever  hand  in  hand  ; 
Shall  nothing  stay  thy  love,  Mariamne,  nothing? 
Nothing  shall  stay  it  —  nothing? 

Mar.  No  —  unless  — 

Herod.    What  —  what  ? 

Mar.  I  cannot  say  —  but  — 

Herod.  Mariamne, 

Tell  me  that  nothing  — 

Mar.  Nothing  from  outside  — 

Herod.    How  then? 

Mar.  Why  speak  of  what  shall  never  be? 

Pull  back  my  head,  and  look  down  in  my  eyes, 
Herod,  my  Herod,  such  a  love  as  grows 
For  you  within  me,  it  could  never  die. 

Herod.   Ah  ! 

Mar.  And  I  take  a  kind  of  maiden  pleasure 

In  hushing  what  I  feel  will  be  so  wild. 
In  staying  what  I  know  shall  be  so  swift ; 
This  love  could  never  fade. 


44  HEROD 

Herod.  O  eyes  of  dew  ! 

Mar.    Not    time,    absence,    or    age    ever    could 
touch  it. 

Herod.    O  liquid  language  of  Eternity  ! 

Mar.    Only — 

Herod.  You  start  up  and  you  lay  both  hands 

Thus  on  my  shoulder,  and  your  eyes  are  full. 
Close  to  my  heart. 

Mar.  No  —  stand  so  far  from  me. 

Herod.   Utter  what  is  behind. 

Mar.  Yet  might  you  kill  it. 

Herod.   Say  — 

Mar.  In  a  night  murder  it  —  in  a  moment ; 

It  is  so  brave  you  would  not  hear  a  cry, 
But  — 

Herod.    If  I  did  such  murder  then  — 

Mar.  Oh,  then  — 

You  'd  stoop  and  lift  a  dead  face  up  to  you. 
And  pull  me  out  from  reeds  like  one  just  drowned, 


HEROD  45 

More  dead  than  those  who  die ;  and  I  should  move, 
Go  here  and  there,  and  words  would  fall  from  me. 
But,  ah  —  you  'd  touch  but  an  embalmed  thing. 
Do  nothing,  Herod,  that  shall  hurt  my  soul. 
Listen ! 

Herod.    O  Mariamne. 

Mar.  Listen ! 

Herod.  What? 

Mar.    Be  still ;  did  you  not  hear  it  ?     Nearer  now. 

Herod.    What  —  what  ? 

Mar.  a  wailing  !     And  again  you  start 

As  once  this  noontide. 

Herod.  Mariamne,  say 

That  nothing  ever  shall  divide  us  two. 

Mar.   Again  !     What  hath  been  found  ? 

Herod.  Ah ;  close  to  me. 

Mar.    I  cannot  hear,  I  am  all  blind  and  dumb  ; 
They  are  bringing  what  is  found  toward  us,  Herod. 

Herod.   This  cannot  touch  us. 


46  HEROD 

Mar.  And  they  bring  it  slowly. 

They  wail  not  for  the  old,  as  these  are  wailing. 
Steps  now  — 

Herod.  A  knocking.     Ere  they  shall  come  in 

Say,  Mariamne,  nothing  shall  divide  us. 
Mar.    Let  them  come  in. 

Herod.  Bring  in  your  burden  then. 

\^Enter  Bearers  with  a  litter  on  tvhich  lies 
a  body  covered  over.  Wailing  women 
walk  before  and  after.  Herod  takes 
Mariamne  away  R.  General  En- 
trance. 
Mar.  a  moment  stay,  sirs.  Now  disclose  the 
face.  \Reels  back  with  a  cry. 

Son.   The  queen  falls. 
Herod.    [  Catching  her  in  his  arms 7^ 

Mariamne,  die  not. 
Mar.  Oh!    \Re  covets  herself  sloivly  a7id  luiih 

effort. 


HEROD  47 

Sirs,  set  the  litter  here.     I  '11  sit  by  it. 
And  leave  me,  all  of  you. 

Herod.  But  I  ? 

Mar.  Oh,  you ; 

You  are  my  husband,  stay. 

\_Exeunt  all  but  Herod  and  Mariamne. 

Herod.    Mariamne,  there  's  no  help  —  we  can  but 
give 
Honour,  and  he  in  such  magnificence 
Shall  lie — Mariamne,  hear  you?  —  that  his  tomb 
Shall  with  its  golden  glory  bear  strange  sails. 
Will  you  not  turn  ever  so  little?     There 
Aloe  and  cinnamon  and  cassia  balm 
Shall  breathe,  and  mighty  poets  will  I  charge 
To  make  their  verse  in  funeral  thunders  roll, 
Or  wail  as  women  or  wind  out  of  the  sea. 
A  word  now  —  but  a  whisper. 

Re-enter  Sohemus. 

SoH.  All  things  wait. 


48  HEROD 

Night  rushes  on  us. 

Herod.  Now  into  your  hands 

I  do  commend  the  queen.     Mariamne,  I 
Am  going  into  peril  —  say  farewell. 

Mar.    \_Rismg.']      I  stand  between  the  living  and 
the  dead. 

[Moving  away. 
Herod.    For  the  last  time  —  your  lips  for  the  last 

time. 
Mar.    Oh,  take  them,  Herod,  but  — 
Herod.  What  have  I  done? 

If  she  — 

\_A  ti-utnpet. 
SoH.      Away,  O  king,  the  trumpet  calls. 
Herod.    My  bugle   from    the    hill   shall  say  fare- 
well. 
Hither  from  that  dead  body.     Hither.     I  grow 
Even  jealous  of  the  dead.     Hither  !    Ah,  no; 
Farewell,  farewell  —  for  Rhodes. 


HEROD  49 

[Herod  rushes  off,  attended  by  Sohemus. 
Marumne  remains  by  the  litter. 
Enter  Pheroras  and  Gadias. 
Pher.    Mariamne,  we  would  not  break  in  on  you, 
But  unto  me  the  army  is  committed. 

[Mariamne  bows  her  head :  exit  Pheroras. 
Gadias.   And  unto  me  the  strings  of  policy. 

[Mariamne  bows  her  head. 
[Gadias,  gazing  on  the  body,  and  speakijig  as  if 
to  himself. 
Perhaps  it  is  as  well  —  as  well  for  all : 
He,  had  he  lived,  had  been  a  public  peril. 

\_Exit  Gadias. 
Mar.    S^Rising  and  looking  after  him.']     Perhaps  it 
is  as  well  —  as  well  for  all : 
He,  had  he  lived,  had  been  a  public  peril. 

[Mariamne  tur?is  and  looks  at  Sohemus. 
SoH.    O  queen,  why  are  your  eyes  so  fixed  on  me? 
What  is  it  I  shall  do  ?     Sliall  I  fetch  hither 


50  HEROD 

Bathsheba?     Still  your  eyes  between  the  candles 
Burn  through  me.    What  then  would  you  have  me  do  ? 

\_Crosses  at  back  to  round  R. 

Mar.    Come  hither  and  stand  near  to  me,  Sohemus. 

[SoHEMUS  comes  to  her  side. 
And  he  was  a  strong  swimmer  yet  was  drowned. 

SoH.   The  entangling  reeds. 

Mar.  Lay  upon  mine  your  hand. 

SoH.    O  queen,  I  tremble  at  your  touch. 

Mar.  This  morn 

The  people  cried  out  that  he  should  be  king. 

SoH.    It  was  a  madness. 

Mar.  Look  into  my  eyes. 

Will  you  not?     Kings  have  gazed  in  them. 

SoH.  O  queen  ! 

I  am  dazed  ;  thy  beauty  takes  away  my  life 
And  being. 

Mar.  Herod  goes  and  leaves  behind  — 

SoH.    'Tis  very  still. 


HEROD  SI 

Mar.  You  have  been  true  to  Herod? 

SoH.    O  until  death. 

Mar.  Yes,  unto  death.     Sohemus, 

Start  not  away. 

SoH.  O  queen,  I  cannot  stir. 

I  am  held  as  in  a  dream. 

Mar.  Sohemus,  stay. 

Was  not  this  dying  fortunate  for  Herod  ? 
Came  it  not  just  upon  the  time?     O  speak. 
And  fear  not  —  kings  must  not  be  lightly  blamed, 
No,  nor  king's  instruments.     Now,  in  your  ear. 
Was  not  this  drowning  fortunate  for  Herod  ? 

SoH.    Oh,  kill  me,  but  command  me  not  to  speak. 

Mar.    a  necessary  death  then.     Was  it  so? 

SoH.    What  shall  I  say  ? 

Mar.  The  truth.     I  know  it  now. 

This  child  was  murdered. 

SoH.  Murdered  ? 

Mar.  They  came  round 


52  HEROD 

And  held  him  under,  and  great  bubbles  rose. 
Now  by  this  beauty  can  you  answer  No  ? 

SoH.    I  —  I  —  I  cannot. 

Mar.  Go. 

\_Exit  SOHEMUS. 

[Mariamne  t2irns  again  to  the  litter.  At 
this  moment  the  faint  sound  of  a  bugle 
is  heard  far  off,  and  in  the  dista7ir£ 
torches  are  seen  and  Herod's  retinue 
moving  over  a  hill.  Mariamne  turm. 
Ah,  Herod,  Herod ! 


ACT    II 


Scene.  —  The  hall  of  audience  in  Herod's  palace  as 
before,  but  ungarlanded ;  on  various  points  of 
vantage  without  are  Sentinels  watchi?ig  for  the 
arrival  of  Herod. 

Enter  Sohemus  meetifig  Gadias. 

Gadias.    No  sight  yet  of  the  king? 
SoH.    \_Calling  upi]  The  king  in  sight? 

Sent.   Nothing ! 
2ND  S.  Nothing  ! 

Gadias.  And  never  will  be  sight. 

SoH.    Gadias  ! 

Gadias.  Young  Octavius  is  no  fool ! 

Herod  hath  walked  into  Octavius's  arms. 
SoH.    I  trust  't  is  not  so. 


$6  HEROD 

Gadias.  Yes,  for  every  hour 

The  murmuring  of  the  people  louder  grows. 

1ST  S.   A  cloud  of  dust ! 

2ND  S.  At  last ! 

1ST  S.  See  you  — 

2ND  S.  Ah,  there. 

Gadias.    Where  is  the  queen? 

SoH.    Returned  from  dropping  blooms 
Upon  the  grave  of  young  Aristobulus. 

Gadias.   These  passings  'twixt  the  palace  and  the 
tomb 
Madden  the  multitude  !     They  crane  their  necks, 
Remembering  her  brother  in  her  face. 
Last  morn  there  followed  her  a  hoarse  uproar. 

SoH.    When  Herod  shall  — 

Gadias.  1/  Herod  shall  — 

SoH.  Return  — 

Gadias.    Here  's  his  first  task  ;  in  fear  of  mutiny, 
Of  mutiny  by  Mariamne  roused. 


HEROD  57 

To  interdict  these  visits  to  the  tomb. 
And  it  shall  be  my  business  that  he  do  so. 

[^£xi^  Gadus. 

1ST  S.    A  solitary  horseman  — 

2ND  S.  No  — 

1ST  S.  Indeed 

It  is.     A  furious  and  a  lonely  rider. 

Enter  Mariamne,  behind,  clothed  in  black. 

Mar.   [_To  Sohemus.]  Then  Herod  left  direction 
that  if  death 
O'ertook  him,  I  too  should  that  moment  die. 

SoH.    O  queen,  I  have  told  unto  your  beauty  what 
No  torture  could  have  wrung,  and  have  betrayed 
My  master's  secrets. 

1ST  S.  Ah  !  A  golden  breastplate  ! 

2ND  S.    It  cannot  be. 

1ST  S.  Yet  look  !    O  burning  gold  ! 

SoH.   This  was  the  very  madness  of  his  love  ! 
How  could  he  face  that  fear  lest  you  should  walk 


58  HEROD 

Behind  Octavius's  high-triumphing  car? 

Mar.  I  might 

Have  seen  a  grandeur  in  this  thought, 
Even  magnificence  of  flattery, 
Once,  but  not  now.     The  dead  boy  makes  him  vile 
In  this  thing  as  in  all  things.     Was  not  this 
The  tiger's  act  ?  beast  fury  ! 

1ST  S.  It  is  he  ! 

2ND  S.    Impossible  ! 

1ST  S.  'T  is  he  !    Herod  —  the  king  ! 

\_Enter  Gadias  and  the  Court,  hastily^ 

SoH.    Said  you  the  king? 

1ST  S.  The  king,  sir,  all  alone  ! 

2ND  S.    Up  on  my  shoulder  there  —  see,  see  the 
king ! 

A  Child.   Show  me  !     Show  me  ! 

Another.  But  where,  O  where  ? 

Another.  O  look ! 

1ST  S.   Hark,  how  he  thunders  ! 


HEROD  59 

2ND  s.  White  with  foam  the  horse. 

SoH.    He  leaps  down,  and  his  armour  jangles  loud. 
Attend.   The    king,    the   king,    he    is   rushing    in 

alone. 
1ST  S.    He  clangs  along  the  corridors  — 
2ND  S.  ^"d  burns 

From  pillar  to  pillar  like  fire  before  the  wind. 

Herod.    [  Without.']        Mariamne  !        Mariamne  ! 
Mariamne  ! 

[Herod  rushes  in,  while  all  present  j?iake 
obeisance.      Marumne  alone   remaifis 
standing.     He  makes  his  way  to  her 
and  kisses  her  hand. 
Gadias.    O  king,  what  tidings? 
Pher.  What  success? 

jg^.  C^  What  news? 

Herod.    O  unimagined  !     I  will  pour  it  forth  ! 
Mariamne,  I  pursued  and  came  on  Caesar  — 
A  face  young  and  yet  wary. 


6o  HEROD 

I  came  in 
Amid  the  courtiers,  and  omitted  noticing 
Of  royalty  but  this  my  diadem. 
Mariamne,  do  you  hear?     I  did  not  cringe, 
But  stood  and  looked  on  him  as  man  on  man, 
As  king  on  king.     Then  I  spoke  out  —  I  mourned 
Dead  Antony  with  frankness  as  my  friend  — 
Mariamne,  hear  you  ?     You  shall  glow  at  this  — 
And  unto  Caesar  proffered  the  same  aid 
I  gave  to  Antony.     *  Judge  me,'  I  cried, 
*  By  what  I  was  to  him  —  to  you  I  '11  be 
No  worse  a  friend  —  You  '11  say  't  is  policy  — 
I  '11  not  deny  it ;  but  't  is  durable  ; 
I  am  your  friend  by  sea,  by  land  henceforth, 
If  you  will  have  me  so.'     Then,  Mariamne, 
He  looked  long  on  me  —  then  without  a  word 

\_Takes  her  Jiand. 
Gave  me  his  hand,  and  bade  me  sit  by  him, 
We  sat  together  —  do  you  listen  ?  —  and 


HEROD  6i 

He  called  for  wine.     *  I  drink  to  my  friend  Herod 
And  to  his  Mariamne.' 

Mar.    l^Groaff/f/g.^      Ah! 

[^On  the  groan  he  fails  away  from  her,  then 
looks  in  her  face.  With  a  gesture  he 
dismisses  the  Court,  who  disperse,  whis- 
pering. Herod  atid  Mariamne  are  left 
alone.  He  moves  to  embrace  her  with 
passion,  but  she  repels  him. 
Mar,  I  am  come 

From  young  Aristobulus  that  was  murdered. 
Herod.    Murdered  ! 

Mar.  Or  taken  as  we  take  a  dog 

And  strangled  in  that  pool  whose  reeds  I  hear 
Sighing  within  my  ears  until  I  die. 
You  like  a  tiger  purred  about  me  :  oh  ! 
Your  part  it  was  to  soothe  and  hush  me  while 
He  gasped  beneath  their  hands  —  your  hands  —  O 
yes, 


62  HEROD 

You  were  not  near,  't  was  yours  to  kiss  and  lie  — 
But  none  the  less  your  hands  were  round  his  throat, 
O  har  ! 

Herod.   Mariamne  ! 

Mar.  You  forest  beast ! 

Herod.    Mariamne  ! 

Mar.  Back,  and  in  the  jungle  burn 

Whence  you  did  leap  out  at  my  brother's  throat. 
Can  you  deny  your  part  in  this?     O  subtle  ! 
Half  suitor  and  half  strangler,  with  one  arm 
About  the  sister's  neck,  the  other  hand 
About  the  brother's  throat ! 

Herod.  I  '11  not  endure  — 

Mar.    Can  you  deny  you  slew  Aristobulus? 
Look  in  my  eyes ;  speak  truth  if  still  't  is  in  you. 

Herod.    I  'II  not  deny  my  part  in  the  boy's  death. 

Mar.   Will  you  weep  now?     Strive,  and  the  tears 
will  come. 

Herod.   'T  was  I  —  I,  Herod  — who  commanded  it. 


HEROD  63 

Mar.    Commanded  ! 

Herod.  Yes,  and  would  again  command. 

Mar.    You  !     You  —  a  sudden  thing  sprung  up  in 
the  night  — 
To  dip  your  hands  in  our  most  ancient  blood  ! 
That  he  should  perish  by  an  Idumean  ! 

Herod.    I   stand  where   I   have  climbed,  and  by 
your  side 
I  could  not  leave  him  — 't  was  not  for  myself 
I  struck,  but  for  the  State  —  't  was  for  Judaea  ! 
And  for  the  throne — your  throne — your  throne  — 

Mar.  O  glib ! 

The  assassin  first,  and  now  the  orator  ! 

Herod.    I  '11  burn  this  bitterness  away  ! 

Mar.  I  am  grown 

Listless  to  all  concerning  you. 

Herod.    \^Groaning^  Ah  —  ah! 

Mar.    Herod,  because  I  once  did  love  you  so  — 
How  long  since  is  it  ?  —  And  because  that  love 


64  HEROD 

With  time  had  grown  much  greater,  now  I  speak. 
Even  the  red  misery  of  my  brother's  murder, 
That  extreme  pang,  is  pale  beside  this  loss. 
This  drying  up  within  me  of  my  soul. 

Herod.    O  madness  ! 

Mar.  You  have  stopped  my  life,  and  ended 

My  very  being  in  a  moment.     Here 

\_Rising  slowly. 
I  stand  and  look  on  you  who  were  my  husband  — 

Herod.    \_Fiercely  embraces  herl\      And  still,  in 
spite  of  all. 

Mar.  No,  never  more  ! 

Herod,  that  love  I  did  conceive  for  you, 
And  from  you,  it  was  even  as  a  child  — 
More  dear,  indeed,  than  any  child  of  flesh. 
For  all  its  blood  was  as  a  colour  of  dreams, 
And  it  was  veined  with  visions  delicate. 
Then  came  a  sudden  labour  ere  ray  time  — 
Terrible  travail  —  and  I  bring  it  forth, 


HEROD  65 

Dead,  dead.     And  here  I  lay  it  at  your  feet. 

Herod.  I  '11  break  this  barrier  down  as  I  have  others. 

Mar.    Never  —  never ! 

Herod.  When  first  I  wooed,  was  I 

Not  blood-stained? 

Mar,  Not  with  blood  of  his  ! 

Herod.  O,  still 

You  shall  forget  him.     He  is  dead,  and  I 
Live  still,  and  glow,  and  sigh,  and  burn  for  you. 

Mar.    Almost  I  am  moved  to  laughter  at  that  passion 
Which  once  could  sway  and  thrill  me  to  the  bone. 
Terrible  when  we  laugh  at  what  we  loved  ! 

Herod.    My  brain,  my  brain,  I  shall  go  mad  ! 

One  kiss  ! 

Mar.   Never ! 

Herod.  One  touch ! 

Mar.  No  more  ! 

Herod.  One  word  ! 

Mar.  Farewell ! 

5 


66  HEROD 

Herod.   You  will  go  from  rae  ? 

Mar.  No,  I  '11  move  about 

The  palace.     You  shall  have  no  scorn  from  me ; 
My  love  is  dead,  but  I  am  still  a  queen ; 
Only,  T  must  not  be  with  you  alone. 

Herod.    Where 's   now    the    boast,    the   glory,    O 
where  now? 
What  was  this  triumph  but  in  the  telling  of  it 
To  you  !     And  what  this  victory  but  to  pour  it 
Into  your  ears  !     I  had  imagined  all 
Meetings  but  this  —  this  only  I  foresaw  not ; 
Here  I  disband  my  legions.     Arise, 
And  spill  the  wine  of  glory  on  the  ground ; 
I  turn  my  face  into  the  night.     And  yet 
Why  am  I  bowed  thus  —  I  that  am  Herod?    Come, 
I  '11  take  you  in  my  arms.     I  '11  have  your  lips 
By  force,  and  chain  your  body  up  to  me ; 
I  am  denied  your  soul,  but  I  will  slake 
This  thirst  of  the  flesh,  and  drink  your  beauty  deep  ! 


HEROD  67 

Mar.    [^Repulsing  him.']     I  '11     not     endure    your 
touch  !     Your  hands  are  curved 
From    that    fell    throttle.      Now   stretch    out    your 

arms ; 
What  is  between  us?     It  is  more  than  air. 
[  IVildfy.']     I  tell  you,  Herod,  that  your  arm  but  then 
Passed  through  the  dead  boy  that  now  stands  be- 
tween us. 

[Passes  up  steps  with  a  long,  shuddering  cry 
of  horror. 
Herod.    Mariamne,  leave  me  not  thus,  Mariamne  1 

\_Exit  Mariamne. 
Aristobulus,  art  thou  satisfied? 
Oh  !  since  my  birth  I  have  lived  in  fierce  contrast, 
For  ever  half  in  lightning,  half  in  gloom  ; 
The  brighter  still  the  public  brilliance  glows, 
The  deeper  falls  the  darkness  of  the  hearth. 
Never  the  calm  and  uneventful  warmth 
Where  other  men  like  creatures  bask  and  browse, 


68  HEROD 

The  metal  of  my  mind  attracts  the  tempest. 

Enter  Gadias. 
Gadias,  is  there  any  thirst  Uke  this? 
Or  any  hunger  Hke  unto  this  hunger? 
I  am  denied  her  lips,  her  touch. 

Gadias.  I  came 

To  speak  on  graver  matters. 

Herod.  Graver !     Why? 

Gadias.    The  queen  — 

Herod.  'T  is  her  I  speak  of. 

Gadias.  In  your  absence 

Herod.    What?     What? 

Gadias.  Hath  visited  continually 

The  tomb  of  young  Aristobulus. 

Herod.  Why, 

What  need  of  her  to  pace  those  yards  of  earth? 
Her  spirit  standeth  by  his  tomb  for  ever. 

Gadus.   There  's  peril  in  this  going  to  and  fro. 

Herod.   Think  you  if  I  forbade  her  that  with  time 


HEROD  69 

The  image  of  this  boy  might  grow  more  dim  ? 

Gadias.    O  king,  the  matter  is  more  grave.     The 
people 
Assemble  now  to  see  her  pass.     They  whisper, 
Then  come  to  sullen  threats.     And  yesterday 
Rose  up  behind  her  a  long,  hoarse  uproar. 

Herod.   To  have  once  possessed,  and  then  to  be 

debarred  ! 
Gadias.   The    Pharisees   are   fanning    this   chance 

flame. 
Herod.    Now  when   I   have   returned   in   a   fond 
glory  — 

Enter  Cyprus  and  Salome  behind. 
Gadias.    Pardon,  O  king,  these  goings  to  the  tomb 
Must  be  forbidden  ! 

Herod.  Aching  with  great  news. 

Gadias.   Your  pardon,  but  the  people  — 
Herod.  Why,  all  this 

Concerns  me  not. 


70  HEROD 

Gadias.  O  king ! 

Herod.  To  me  the  people, 

My  mother,  sister,  you  —  all  these  are  nothing  — 
Gadias.    Well  — 

Herod.    Speak  of  Mariamne,  how  to  win  her  back. 
Gadias.    You  will  take  some  measure  to  suppress  — 
Herod.    Suppress?      No,    but   to   kindle   what   is 
quenched. 

[Gadias   motions   to   Cypros  and  Salome 
with  despairing  gesture. 
Gadias.    I  will   return  at  some   more    prosperous 
moment. 

\Exit  Gadias.     Cypros  and  Salome  come  down. 
Cypros.    You  waved  us  off.     We  with  the  crowd 
were  banished, 
But  now  that  you  have  spoken  with  Mariamne 
Your  mother  and  your  sister  may  perhaps 
Have  leave  — 

Herod.  I  will  not  have  your  kiss  —  or  hers  1 


HEROD  71 

I  am  exiled  from  Mariamne's  lips. 

Salome,    \^■hy,  would  she  not  — 

Herod.  When  I  rushed  in,  she  rose 

Like  a  black  pine  out  of  the  bending  wheat. 

CvTROS.    Doth  she  deny  you? 

Herod.  Utterly ! 

Salome.    Yet  why  ? 

Herod.  Because  I  killed  Aristobulus. 

Salome.  Oh ! 

Cypros.    Is  this  the  sole  cause  ? 

Herod.  Why,  what  other? 

Cypros.  Herod, 

Men  I  well  know  that  you  can  trample  down, 
Or  flatter  or  deceive  —  women  you  know  not. 

Herod.    Well  —  well  — 

Cypros.  And  you  suppose  this  the  sole  cause? 

Herod.    What  mean  you? 

Cypros.  At  the  least  I  'II  fend  and  watch 

Over  you. 


72  HEROD 

Salome.  Unto  whom  did  you  confide 

This  murder?     Unto  all  the  court? 

Herod.  No  —  no. 

Cypros.    To  whom,  then? 

Herod.  To  Gadias. 

Salome.  To  Gadias? 

Cypros.    And  to  no  other? 

Herod.  To  Sohemus. 

Salome.  To  — 

Sohemus? 

Cypros.    To  Sohemus? 

[Herod,   ascending  staircase,  turns,   looks 
from    Cypros    to    Salome,    then    exit, 
with  gesture  of  disbelief. 

Cypros.  He  is  nu>v 

Wrought  to  the  very  mood  v/hen  we  can  use  him 
To  strike  at  Mariamne.     We  must  not 
Sufier  him  now  to  cool. 

Salome.  He  is  most  silent. 


HEROD  73 

Cypros.   And  then  most  capable  of  dangerous  act. 

Salome.    How?     How? 

Cypros.  The  queen  is  wont  about  this  hour 

To  bring  his  posset  to  the  king,  which  she 
Prepares  with  her  own  hands.     Now  if  a  moment 
I  could  distil  this  poison  in  the  cup. 
Then  warn  him  not  to  drink  ! 

Salome.  Still  to  and  fro 

He  paces,  making  the  vast  room  a  cage. 

\_Pause,  moves  up  steps,  and  listefis,  kneelitig. 
Still  pacing  up  and  down,  and  to  and  fro, 
And  now  a  sudden  pause.     And  now  again, 
Like  a  stung  creature,  fitfully  resumes. 

Enter  Cup- Bearer,  7i'ith  a  cup  of  wine. 

Cypros.    Ah,  whither  do  you  take  that  cup? 

Cup-B.  I  take  it. 

In  to  the  king, 

Cypros.  But  the  queen  takes  the  cup. 

Cup-B.   To-day  she  will  not  take  it. 


74  HEROD 

Cypros.  Give  it  me. 

[Cup-Bearer  comes  over  and  hands  her  the 
cup.     Cypros  smells  it. 
The  queen  prepared  this  cup  with  her  own  hands? 
Cup-B.   The  queen  prepared  the  cup  with  her  own 
hands. 

\_As   he   bows   low,    Cypros   drops   in    the 
poison.      As   he   looks    tip   again,  she 
again  smells  the  wine. 
Cypros.    Does  it  not  seem  the  wine  has  a  strange 
smell? 

\_Gives  cup  to  Cup-Bearer. 
Salome.    Most  strange. 
Cypros.  Or  is  it  fancy? 

Cup-B.  A  strange  smell ! 

Cypros.    Were  it  not  better  then  to  warn  the  king 
Before  he  drinks  it? 

Cup-B.  I  will  warn  the  king. 

\_Exit  up  steps. 


HEROD  75 

Cypros.    Now,  Herod  being  warned,  will  instantly 
Summon  the  queen  and  ask  of  her  to  drink ; 
This  is  his  mood.     If  she  refuse,  he  '11  deem 
She  hath  put  poison  in  with  her  own  hands. 

Salome.    And  if  she  drink  it  ? 

Cypros.  Then  we  see  her  fall  — 

For  it  is  deadly  —  and  die  upon  the  instant. 
So  either  way  — 

\_Cry  fro77i  Herod  within. 

Salome.  A  cry ! 

Cypros.  He  is  stung  to  madness. 

Salome.    Or  wounded,  by  his  voice. 
Enter  Herod,  in  grim  silence,  with  the  Cup-Bearer. 
Herod.    \To  Attendant.]        Summon  the  queen, 
Pheroras,  and  Gadias,  and  Sohemus. 

\_A  pause,  during  which  enter  Pheroras, 

Sohemus  and  Gadias. 
[Herod  and  Cup-Bearer  stand  tnotionless. 
Enter    Marl^ine,    and    stands    with 


76  HEROD 

back  to  door  at  top  of  steps,  where  she 
remains  throughout  following  action. 
Herod.    Did  you  prepare  this  cup  with  your  own 

hands? 
Mar.   With  my  own  hands  as  is  my  custom. 
Herod.  Yet 

You  did  not  bring  it  me  as  is  your  custom. 
Mar.    I  chose  to  send  it. 

Herod.  As  it  chanced,  my  mother 

And  sister  intercepted  the  cup-bearer. 

Cypros.    I  had  sworn  to  guard  you,  Herod. 
Herod.  And  they  drew 

A  strange  smell  from  the  wine.     Now  drink  it ! 
Drink. 

Mar.    \_Giving  her  the   cup.']     Is    this  a  second 
treachery?     I  know  not. 

\_Looks  towards  Cypros  and  Salome,  and 
from  them  back  to  Herod. 
He  who  could  drown  can  poison. 


HEROD  77 

Herod.  Drink  it  —  or  — 

Mar.    I  am  so  weary,  T  will  drink  it,  and 
If  it  is  mortal,  then  I  go  at  once 
Down  to  Aristobulus. 

Now  farewell ! 
Jerusalem,  city  of  God,  farewell, 
My  cradle  first,  my  home,  and  now  my  grave, 
For  I,  the  last  of  all  the  Maccabees, 
I,  the  lone  daughter  of  that  flaming  line, 
I  perish  without  fear  and  without  cry. 
For  a  doom  is  come  upon  us,  and  an  ending. 
Brother,  I  drink  and  hasten  down  to  you. 

[_As  she  puts  the  cup   to  her  lips,  Herod 
dashes  it  down. 
Herod.    Ah,  no  !  though  you  prepared  this  for  my 
death, 
I  cannot  see  you  drink  it. 

Mariamne, 
Now,  even  now  — 


78  HEROD 

Mar.    [^Pointing  to  the  spilt  wine.']     Between  us  a 
red  stream. 

\_Angry   shouts    are   heard  from    the   city. 
Pheroras  and  Sohemus  go  out. 
Cypros.    What  is  that  sound  ? 
Gadias.    \_Listening.']  It  was  an  angry  sound. 

Enter  an  Officer  of  the  Guard. 
Officer.    Your  pardon,  but  our  captain,  where  is 

he? 
Salome.    What  is  the  danger,  then? 

\Exit  Officer. 
Cypros.  What  does  this  mean? 

Crash  is  heard  at  the  gates.     Pheroras  enters. 
Pher.   They  have  shattered  down  the  outer  gate. 
Cypros.  They  ?     Who  ? 

Pher.    The  mob,  by  Mariamne's  public  grief 
To  fury  urged.     They  are  beating  at  the  palace. 
Salome.   They  are  fighting. 
Cypros.  There  are  groans  and  sudden  falls. 


HEROD  79 

Pher.    Sohemus    falls  —  he  is  wounded  —  they  '11 

break  through. 
Herod.    [To  Pheroras.]     Call  the  reinforcements 
from  the  citadel, 
So  that  they  steal  in  and  surround  the  mob. 
Meanwhile,  I  will  detain  them  in  some  speech. 
When  you  are  ready,  let  the  trumpet  sound, 

\^£xit  Pheroras. 
[Herod's  guards  are  now  forced  back  into 
the  Hall,  some  falling.  A  Mob  of 
political  plotters,  priests,  and  populace 
swarms  in  li'ith  stones,  staves  and 
chance  weapons,  blind  SvLLiEUS  in 
front.  Herod  speaks  from  the  stairs. 
Stand  out,  the  chief  of  you,  and  answer  me. 

[Several  the7i  stand  out. 
The  cause  why  you  have  broke  into  the  palace. 

SvLL.    Herod,  these  sightless  eyes  can  yet  behold 
The  blood  on  you  of  young  Aristobulus.     \_A  murmur. 


8o  HEROD 

It  is  so  bright,  it  dazzles  even  the  bhnd. 

And  near  to  you  his  sister  flaming  stands ; 

Her  wrongs,  her  injuries  we  will  avenge. 

Can  you  deny  that  you  —  you  —  struck  him  down? 

Herod.   I  struck  him  down  !    And  did  he  live  again, 
Again  I  'd  strike  him  down.     And  any  other 
That 's  in  my  path  I  '11  set  my  foot  upon. 

[.4  murmii}-  which  swells  into  a  roar. 
Why,  why,  then  ?     Because  Herod  is  Judaea ; 
I  am  your  bulwark  and  your  bastion ;   I, 
Herod  alone. 

A  Man.   You  have  sold  us  to  the  Roman. 

\_Cries  of  ^  Yes, yes.'' 

A  Man.    Antony  *s  dead  ! 

Another.  And  Caesar  lives. 

Another.  You  chose 

The  v/rong. 

Herod.     'T  is  true  that  Antony 's  dead. 
'T  is  true  ^Murmurs. 


HEROD  8i 

That  Coesar  lives.     And  I  this  very  day 
Have  come  from  grasping  Caesar's  hand,  and  him 
I  now  have  grappled  to  my  side  as  once 
I  grappled  Antony.     I  have  sold  you  to  the  Roman  ? 
Now  hearken  with  what  gifts  I  come  from  Rome. 
Henceforward  in  all  cities  which  Rome  sways, 
Freedom  to  each  Jew  by  our  ancient  law, 

{Movements  and  murmurs  of  satisfaction 
checked  by  a  gesture  from  Herod. 
So  long  as  I  reign  o'er  you  and  my  heirs. 
Then  leave  to  adore  the  God  of  Israel  — 

\Renewed    7nurmurs    of  gratitude,    again 
checked  by  Herod. 
So  long  as  I  reign  o'er  you  and  my  heirs. 
Last,  in  all  cities  under  Roman  rule, 
The  heavy  hand  of  persecution 
Upon  our  people  shall  be  lifted  up 
And  all  our  burdens  lightened  from  henceforth, 

\_Applause. 


82  HEROD 

So  long  as  I  reign  o'er  you  and  my  heirs. 
Some  other  cause  then?     Stand  you  out  and  speak. 
A  Priest.   You  would  destroy  the  Temple. 
Herod.  But  to  build 

A  vaster  Temple  and  more  glorious. 
This  task  have  I  foreseen  and  have  prepared ; 
And  now  I  bid  you  on  the  instant  choose 
A  thousand  priests  to  work  in  metal  and  ore 
Until  this  mightier  Temple  shall  arise. 
Till  then  no  stone  of  the  old  sanctuary 
Shall  be  removed.     To  priests  and  priests  alone 
I  give  the  charge  —  I  am  not  worthy  of  it. 
I  will  enrol  a  thousand  priests  to-day. 

\_Mitrmurs  of  satisfaction  renewed  among 
priests  and  populace. 
Now  I  come  down  among  you. 

\_He  descends. 
Here  's  my  breast. 
Now  strike  who  wills.     Does  any  hesitate  ? 


HEROD  83 

Why,  such  a  blow  as  this  none  ever  struck 
That  breathed  shice  the  beginning  of  the  world  ; 
For  he  wlao  strikes  this  breast,  strikes  at  a  city, 
Who  stabs  at  this  my  heart,  stabs  at  a  kingdom. 
These  veins  are  rivers,  and  these  arteries 
Are  very  roads.     This  body  is  your  country. 
Strike  —  strike  —  strike  !     None  of  you  ? 

\_Trumpet.    Armed  tnen  appear  at  the  back, 
filling  the  corridor's  and  colonnade. 

Lo  then  my  spears 
That  circle  you  about  with  no  escape  ! 
1  lift  my  finger  and  all  ye  are  dead  ! 
Crowd.    \_Fawningly.'\     O  Herod  ! 
Herod.  But  I  will  not.     Go  ! 

[  To  Politicians.]  And  you  ! 

Remember  with  what  gifts  I  come  from  Rome. 
\_To  Priests.]     You   to    the    task   of  building   gird 

yourselves. 
\To  Mob.]   And  you,  my  people,  now  depart  in  peace, 


84  HEROD 

And  ere  you  sleep,  give  to  Jehovah  thanks 
That  Herod  is  your  shepherd  and  your  king  ! 

[They    come    round    him,    sottie    kneeling, 

kissing    his   gartnents,    arid  gradually 

disperse.     Exeunt  Mob. 

Cypros.    \To  Herod.]    Now  'tis  our  lives  or  hers. 

Salome.  She  hath  denied  you 

Her  lips,  her  love. 

Cypros.  She  hath  prepared  you  poison. 

Gadias.    These   things   are    not    important.     That 
which  was 
A  private  trouble  between  you  and  her 
Is  now  a  public  peril.     'T  is  not  you 
That  now  are  shaken,  but  the  throne  itself. 

Pher.    Brother,  that  this  will  cost  you  a  fierce  pang 
I  know  —  but  for  the  country  she  must  die. 
Gadias.    And  quickly. 
Cypros.    Kill  her,  Herod. 
Salome.    Kill  her  !     kill  her ! 


HEROD  85 

Herod.    Would  you  commit  such  beauty  to    the 
earth  ? 
Those  eyes  that  bring  upon  us  endless  thoughts  ! 
That  face  that  seems  as  it  had  come  to  pass 
Like  a  thing  prophesied  !     To  kill  her  ! 
And  I,  if  she  were  dead,  I  too  would  die, 
Or  linger  in  the  sunlight  without  life  ; 
Oh,  terrible  to  live  but  in  remembering  ! 
To  call  her  name  down  the  long  corridors ; 
To  come  on  jewels  that  she  wore,  laid  by ; 
Or  open  suddenly  some  chest,  and  see 
Some  favourite  robe  she  wore  on  such  a  day  ! 
I  dare  not  bring  upon  myself  such  woe. 

Gadias.    'T  is  not  yourself,  O  king,  it  is  the  State. 

Pher.    It  is  our  country  that  asks  this  of  you. 

Herod.    If  it  must  be,  then,  here  I  sit  in  judgment ! 

[Afovcs  to  throne  and  sits. 
I  call  upon  you,  Mariamne,  here 
To  answer  for  yourself  that  you  deny 


86  HEROD 

All  rights  of  marriage  unto  me  your  husband. 
Answer. 

Cypros.        She  will  not. 

Salome.  Cannot  —  rather  say. 

Herod.   Then  for  this  poison  of  your  own  preparing. 

Salome.    She  cannot  speak. 

Cypros.  No  answer  still? 

Salome.  You  hear. 

Herod.    Last,  for  this  insurrection  of  your  making, 
You  stir  my  people  up  against  their  king. 
They  break  into  the  palace,  and  would  have  slain  us. 

Gadus.   This  visiting  so  oft  your  brother's  tomb 
Has  wrought  the  people  up  to  mutiny. 

Mar.    I  '11  not  forbear  ray  visits  to  his  tomb  — 
No,  not  though  all  Jerusalem  went  mad, 
And  pulled  these  pillars  down  upon  our  heads. 

Herod.    Remember,  I  have  power  upon  your  hfe, 
That  I  can  sentence  you  to  death. 

Mar.  Oh,  that ! 


HEROD  87 

Pher.    What  further  need  of  words? 
Cypros.  Or  witnesses. 

Herod.   Then  as  a  traitor  not  alone  to  me, 
Eut  to  the  State  itself,  you  have  incurred 
The  pains  of  death. 

Mar.  I  am  ready. 

Cypros.  Let  her  die. 

Gadias.   King,  she  must  die. 

jjgROD.  Away  from  us  a  moment. 

[Exeunt  all  but  Mariamne  and  Herod. 
Herod  beckons  her  down;  she  comes 
before  him. 
Mar.    Herod,  I  cannot  change  —  my  love  is  dead. 
Herod.    Die    then   yourself — die,   die  upon   the 
instant. 
Such  beauty  should  pass  suddenly  away, 
Such  loveliness  should  vanish  like  the  lightning, 

Die  —  die  — 

But  ere  you  go,  witness  at  least 


8S  HEROD 

That  never  woman  was  so  loved  as  thou, 
I'iiat  never  man  from  the  beginning  loved 
As  I. 

Mar.    [_Afoves  down  to  him.~\     And  yet  you  left 
behind  direction 
i'hat  were  you  slain,  that  moment  I  should  die. 

Herod.    Here  has  imagination  made  me  cruel, 
So  that  one  death  should  end  what  is  one  life, 
And  we  two  simultaneously  cease  : 
If  cease  we  do,  let 's  perish  the  same  instant. 
Never  could  I  decay  while  you  still  breathed. 
Nor  could  I  rot  while  you  moved  in  the  light; 
What  grave  could  hold  me  fast?     What  sepulchre 
Could  so  press  on  me  that  I  would  not  rend  it? 
Burn  me  in  fire,  and  see  me  ashes,  yet 
No  lighted  fire  hath  force  upon  this  fire  : 
Or  did  I  live  again,  then  should  I  float 
All  inarticulate  and  invisible 
About  you  still  —  mad  to  recover  words  — • 


HEROD  89 

A  spirit  groping  for  the  trick  of  speech, 
Mad  for  the  ancient  touches  of  the  hand, 
Yet  wordless,  handless,  helpless,  near  yet  dumb. 
Close,  yet  unseen.     This  was  the  love  I  bore  you. 
Mar.   a  tiger's  fury  —  not  the  love  of  man  ! 

[  Turns  to  go, 
Herod.    \_Moves  up  to  steps.~\  O  stay  yet ! 

I  forgive  the  love  denied  : 
See  —  I  forgive  the  poison.     I  but  crawl 
Here  at  your  feet,  and  kiss  your  garments'  hem. 
And  I  forgive  this  mutiny  —  all  —  all  — 
But  for  one  kiss  from  you,  one  touch,  one  word. 
O  like  a  creature,  I  implore  some  look. 
Some  syllable,  some  sign,  ere  I  go  mad, 
Mariariine  !     Mariamne  !     Mariamne  ! 

[Mariamne  goes  out  without  say i tig  a  word 
or  looking  round. 
[^Throwing  himself  on  steps.']     I  am  denied  her  soul, 
and  that  which  was 


90  HEROD 

A  glow  hath  now  become  a  wasting  flame. 
I  am  a  barren,  solitary  pyre  ! 

\_Takes  ashes  from  brazier  and  strews  them 
over  his  head. 
Enter  Pheroras,  Gadias,  Cypros  and  Salome. 
Pher.    I  will  give  order  for  the  execution. 
Cypros.    Let  her  drink  poison  —  die  by  that  same 
death 
Prepared  for  you. 

[Pheroras  is  about  to  go  up  steps, 
Herod.  Pheroras,  and  you  others, 

I  '11  not  excuse  her,  but  she  had  at  least 
Some  provocation  in  that  fierce  command 
I  left  behind  that  should  I  die,  she  too 
Should  perish. 

[Salome  exchanges  look  with  Cypros. 
Salome.         And  to  whom  did  you  confide 
So  intimate,  so  secret  a  command  ? 
Not  to  Gadias? 


HEROD  91 

Gadias.  No. 

Herod.  Why,  to  Sohemus. 

SoH.    Oh,  take  me  to  the  king. 
Enter,  dying  0/ wounds  received  in  attack  on  palace. 

f'orgive  me,  Herod. 
\Dies, 

Herod.   He  was  my  friend  ! 

Cypros.    Your  friend  !     And  yet  from  him 
She  learned  the  murder  of  Aristobulus  ? 

Salome.   But  this  command,  so  dear,  so  perilous. 
Would  not  be  blurted  out  — 'twas  wrung  from  him. 

Herod.    Impossible  !     By  torture? 

Salome.  No,  perhaps 

By  loveliness  more  terrible  than  torture  — 
Slow  sweetness  with  more  exquisite  a  pang. 

Cypros.    He  was  so  true,  no  tortures  could  have 
shook  him. 

Salome.    Only  in  one  way  drew  she  this  from  him. 

Cypros.    Know,  son,  that  women  the  most  delicate, 


92  HEROD 

And  most  high-born,  feed  often  on  strange  fancies ; 
They  are  so  screened,  they  come  to  long  for  peril, 
And  we  are  secret,  Herod  —  very  secret. 

Salome.   Thus  only,  Herod,  lying  on  his  breast, 
And  gazing  in  his  eyes,  one  arm  about  him. 
Could  she  have  drawn  him,  swooning  at  her  sweetness, 
To  such  betrayal. 

Herod.  Like  a  fiend  you  hold  me 

In  an  eternal  torture. 

Salome.  Till  he  gave 

His  soul  up  in  the  incense  of  her  hair. 

Herod.    \_Throimng'&MjouEfror>i  him.'\     Devil! 

Cypros.   And,  Herod,  not  for  the  first  time 
She  hath  languished  for  a  soldier  lowly  born. 

Herod.    Incredible  !     Unthinkable  !     And  yet, 
O  God  !    Sohemus'  cry,  '  Forgive  me,  Herod  ! ' 

CvPROS.    A  dying  cry  ! 

Herod.    \_Rushing  to  the  body  and  kneeling.'] 

Sohemus,  speak  —  speak  —  speak  ! 


HEROD  93 

Thou  art  not  dead  so  long  —  art  but  a  little 

The  other  side  of  the  grave,  and  canst  reveal  — 
If  not,  let  God  then  thunder  through  your  lips  — 
He  is  dumb —  and  God  himself  is  silent !     Kill  her  ! 

Gadias.    He  has  said  it  ! 

Cypros.    Oh,   at    last  !     Let    her    drink    poison  — 
And  on  the  instant. 

Gadias.  Quickly,  lest  he  change. 

[J^xi/  Servant,  quickly. 

Herod.    I  have  said  it !    And  it  was  foretold  of  me 
That  I  should  slay  the  thing  that  most  I  loved. 
Fate  is  upon  me  with  the  hour,  the  word. 
A  dreadful  numbness  all  my  spirit  seals. 
Yet  will  I  not  be  bound,  I  will  break  free, 
She  shall  not  die  —  she  shall  not  die  —  she  shall  not  — 
Trumpets.     Enter  Attendant. 

Attend.    O  king,  the  Roman  eagles  !     See  ! 

A  Cry.    [  Without.']  From  Rome  I 

E7iter  Roman  Envoy  and  Suite. 


94  HEROD 

Envoy.    O  king,  great  Caesar  sent  us  after  you, 
But,  though  we  posted  fast,  you  still  outran  us. 
Thus  then  by  word  of  mouth  great  Caesar  greets 
Herod  his  friend.     But  he  would  not  confine 
That  friendship  to  the  easy  spoken  word, 
And  hear  I  bear  a  proof  of  Caesar's  faith. 
Herein  is  added  to  thy  boundaries 
Hippo,  Samaria  and  Gadara, 
And  high-walled  Joppa,  and  Anthedon's  shore, 
And  Gaza  unto  these,  and  Straton's  towers. 

\^Afoves  down. 
Here  is  the  scroll,  with  Caesar's  own  hand  signed. 
Herod.    \_Taking  the  scroll —  at  foot  of  steps. '\ 
Mariamne,  hear  you  this?     INIariamne,  see  you? 

[Turns  to  look  at  scroll. 
[Servant  enters  and  moves  down  to  Gadias 
down  L. 

\_IIe  goes  up  the  stairs. 
Hippo,  Samaria  and  Gadara, 


HEROD  95 

And  high-walled  Joppa,  and  Anthedon's  shore, 
And  Gaza  unto  these,  and  Straton's  towers. 

Serv.    ^Asi(/e  to  Gadias.]    O  sir,  the  queen  is  dead  ! 

Gadus.    \^Aside  to  Pheroras,  Cvpros  and  Salome.] 
The  queen  is  dead  ! 

Herod.    Mariamne,  hear  you  this?    Mariamne,  see 

)'0U? 

\Repeating  the  words  and  going  up  steps. 
Hippo,  Samaria  and  Gadara, 
And  high-walled  Joppa,  and  Anthedon, 

\As  he  moves  up. 
And  Gaza  unto  these,  and  Straton's  towers  ! 


ACT    III 


Scene.  —  TJie  Hall  of  Audience  as  before ;  sunset. 
The  Chief  Captains,  Councillors  and  Priests 
assembled,  including  Gadus,  a  Physician,  Cy- 
PROS,  etc.  On  one  side  of  the  throne  stand 
Priests,  who  are  displaying  ivory  and  marble 
and  precious  stones.  On  the  other  side  are 
various  Architects  and  Chief  Masons,  who  are 
eagerly  displaying  charts  and  plans.  As  the 
Curtain  rises  there  is  the  hum  of  tnany  voices, 
but  Gadus  rising  to  speak  with  uplifted  hand, 
there  is  a  sudden  silence. 

Gadias.    Priests,  councillors  and  captains  nigh  the 
throne. 
Who  are  partakers  of  our  private  mind ; 
Long  time,  ye  know,  the  melancholy  king 


100  HEROD 

Herod  hath  brooded  by  the  Dead  Sea  wave 
Incapable  of  empire  :  but  to-day 
Returns  to  grasp  the  rehis  of  sovereignty. 

[A  imtrmur  of  app)-obaiion. 
Priests,  councillors  and  captains  nigh  the  throne, 
All  Jewry  on  that  single  brain  depends. 
Herod  alone  defers  the  Roman  doom, 
That  general  fate  whereto  the  world  is  born. 

\_A  low  assenting  murmur. 
That  moment  when  the  reason  of  the  king 
Shall  tremble,  trembles  with  it  all  this  realm. 
And  now  it  seems  that  by  the  Dead  Sea  marge 
Long  since  his  mind  had  maddened,  but  for  one 
Idea  with  which  he  still  doth  rock  himself. 

\A  movement  of  surprise. 
Some  fancy,  all  incredible  to  me. 
But  which  alone  diverts  insanity, 
And  what  this  is,  from  the  Physician  hear  ! 

Phys.    Councillors,  priests,  my  business  is  to  mend 


HEROD  loi 

The  mind,  not  mingle  with  affairs  of  State. 

Now  listen  :   though  the  embalmed  queen  is  cold, 

Yet  from  that  irremediable  thought 

The  king's  brain  starts  aside  :   such  is  his  love 

lie  dares  not  to  imagine  she  is  dead. 

[y4  movement  of  astonishmc?it. 
And  in  the  wild  foam  of  insanity 
He  clasps  this  rock  :  that  Mariamne  lives. 
Once  let  her  death  rush  in  upon  his  brain, 
Madness  will  seize  him  ! 

Priest.  And  darkness  the  land. 

Gadias.    Seeing  the  issue  then  how  vast ;  whate'er 
You  and  myself  m  ly  deem  of  this,  our  aim 
Must  be  to  fend  from  him  reality, 
And  for  as  long  as  may  be  to  conspire 
Against  the  idea  of  Mariamne's  death. 

Phys.    \_Poiniing  to  Priests.]     With  ivory  distract 
him  and  with  gems  ! 
Have  music  to  avert  some  sudden  rush. 


102  HEROD 

And  dancers  to  allure  him  from  the  truth. 

If  he  send  messages  unto  the  dead, 

Let  messages  be  carried  :  if  he  ask 

An  answer  from  the  dead,  be  answer  given. 

Only  from  one  thought  save  him  ! 

Priest.  And  so  save 

Your  wives,  your  children,  this  beloved  land 
From  ruin  and  the  nearing  roar  of  Rome  ! 

Fhys.   Remember,  if  we  can  but  bring  him  safe 
Through  the  sharp  crisis  of  his  malady  ; 
If  for  the  first  few  hours  of  his  return 
We  can  with  music  and  with  gems  divert  him 
From  realising  Mariamne's  death, 
Then  is  there  hope  that  he,  with  stealing  time 
And  reconciling  lapse  of  quiet  hours. 
May  come  to  acquiesce  and  to  submit 
To  the  dread  fact  of  Mariamne's  death. 
E7iter  Salome. 

Gadias.   Princess  Salome  1 


HEROD  103 

Salome.  Mother,  he  is  coming. 

We  must  be  tender  with  him  :  this  is  left  us. 

\_She  turns  to  Court. 
Councillors,  priests,  my  brother  now  is  coming. 
When  you  shall  see  him  —  if  there  be  of  you 
Any  that  envied  or  that  hated  him, 
His  face  shall  make  you  to  forget  your  wrongs. 

[_A  movement  of  sympathy. 
I  have  been  close  to  him  by  day,  by  night. 
When  he  would  dash  him  'gainst  Masada's  walls 
With  piteous  climbings ;  for  it  seemed  to  him 
That  he  again  was  bearing  off  the  queen. 
I  have  been  near  him  when  like  some  wild  beast 
He  turned  upon  himself  as  on  some  prey ; 
But  me  he  loathes,  and  '  Mariamne  '  cries, 
And  <  Mariamne  ! '  until  I,  who  wrought 
This  ruin,  would  revive  her  if  I  might. 
I  would  support  —  how  gladly  now  !  —  her  look, 
Her  high  disdain,  I  would  bow  down  to  it, 


I04  HEROD 

Only  to  bring  her  in  alive  to  him : 
But  he  shall  not  be  happy  till  he  die. 
And  now  far  more  to  see  her  face  again, 
As  he  imagines,  than  to  take  up  rule, 
He  Cometh  hither. 

Priest.  Hither? 

Salome,  Here  he  saw  her 

Last ;  and  he  heard  her  speak  for  the  last  time. 
O  sirs,  let  him  not  rush  in  on  her  body 
Suddenly :  but  by  every  art  divert  him 
From  realising  that  the  queen  is  dead. 

\_Murmurs  are  heard  without, 

Gadias.    He  comes. 

Phys.    Each  man  stand  sentinel  'gainst  truth, 
And  watch  the  gates  against  reality  1 

A  Cry.   The  king  ! 
\_Nearer.'\  The  king ! 

\_Near  the  throne.']  The  king  ! 

The  Court.  Herod,  all  hail ! 


HEROD  105 

Enter  Herod  ttnketnpt  and  in  ragged  apparel.     He 
slowly  ascends  the  throne  and  sits  in  it. 

Gadias.    O  king,  restore  to  us  that  mastering  brain, 
That  grappling  will,  those  disentangling  hands. 

The  Court.   Herod,  Herod  ! 

Herod.  The  business  now? 

Gadus.  O  king  ! 

Since  thou  wast  sitting  where  thou  sittest  now, 
A  pestilence  hath  fallen  upon  the  land. 
Then  famine  !     And  the  realm  is  filled  with  bones. 
What  should  we  do?    Where  's  succour  and  where 

hope? 
To  me  it  seemed  — 

Herod.  Import  from  Egypt  grain  ! 

And  I  myself  out  of  my  private  purse 
Will  fifty  thousand  of  my  subjects  feed. 
Dispatch  to  Egypt ! 

Councillor.  The  king's  mind  is  clear 

Still,  there  is  hope. 


io6  HEROD 

Herod.  This    is    the    hour — is 't    not?  —  when 

Mariamne  — 
Gadias.    \^Iiiterrupting.'\     Lo  !   the  chief  builders, 
masons,  engineers. 
Who  make  at  thy  command  the  sea-coast  ring 
From  Gaza  northward  unto  Caesarea. 

Chief  Builder.    O  king,  since  thou  wast  sick  all 
idle  stands 
In  scaffolded  and  roofless  interruption, 
An  unborn  desolation  of  blank  stone. 
Bird-haunted  as  a  dead  metropolis. 

Herod.    I  will  create  a  city  of  my  own ; 
And  therefore  with  sea-thwarting  bastions 
And  mighty  moles  have  made  impregnable 
That  beach  where  Caesarea  shall  arise. 

\_He  passes  his  hand  over  his  brow. 
How  easy  this  !     Yet  against  flooding  thoughts  — 
[6'/Vi'.]  \_Turfis  to  the  Court. 

Well,  well,  a  harbour  then  for  every  nation. 


HEROD  J07 

Whereon  shall  ride  the  navies  of  the  world. 
There  vessels  from  the  sunset  shall  unlade  ; 
The  harbour  one  vast  bosom  shall  become 
For  towering  galleons  of  the  ocean  weary ; 
For  driven  things  a  place  of  rest.     Rest  —  rest  — 
How  easy  this  —  yet  for  the  driven  mind  ! 
[Sudi/eufy.]  Go,  tell  the  queen  that  I  would  speak  to  her. 

\^A  general  movetnent. 
She  knows  not  yet  I  am  returned  ? 

Gadias.  O  king ! 

Not  yet ! 

Herod.   Then  tell  her  I  would  speak  to  her. 

\_An  Attendant  starts  to  go. 
Come  hither  you  !     I  will  not  have  her  vexed, 
Nor  troubled  to  come ;  perchance  she  is  asleep, 
Asleep  —  then  rouse  her  not  —  you  understand. 
I  '11  wait  her  waking.  \_Exit  Attendant. 

[Herod  tiirtis  to  the  Court, 
This  then  is  my  design. 


lo8  HEROD 

And  now  that  in  my  coffers  'gins  to  pour 

Pearl  of  barbaric  kings  and  savage  gold, 

And  emeralds  of  Indian  emperors, 

And  wafted  ivory  in  silent  night, 

And  floated  marble  in  the  moonbeams,  now 

That  the  green  waves  are  glooming  pearls  for  me, 

And  metals  cry  to  me  to  be  delivered. 

And  screened  jewels  wait  like  brides,  I  '11  have 

No  stint  —  no  waiting  on  how  much,  how  far  — 

[Gadias  beckons  Chief  Artificer. 
You  understand? 

Chief  A.  O  king,  even  now  the  city 

Seems  rising  as  by  incantation  ! 
Each  dawn  new  spires  will  dazzle,  sudden  towers 
And  masonry  in  morning  magical. 

Herod.    Hence    to    the  coast !     And   every  hour 
dispatch 
New  messengers  of  rising  domes  and  halls, 
And  terraces  of  bloom  and  blowing  gardens, 


HEROD  109 

Or  some  repulse  of  the  invading  sea  ! 

Chief  A.    O  king  !  it  shall  be  done. 

Herod.  Dismiss  them.    Where 

[Exeunt  Artificers,  etc. 
Is  he  I  sent  in  to  the  queen  —  how  long? 

A  Priest.    Lo  !  those  whom   thou  hast  caused  to 
build  the  Temple, 
The  chief  artificers  in  gold  and  silver, 
Marble  and  porphyry  and  red  pumice-stone, 
Trimmers  of  jewel  sparks  — 

Herod.  Pour  out  those  pearls, 

And  give  me  in  my  hand  that  bar  of  gold.         \_Rises. 
I  heard  an  angel  crying  from  the  Sun, 

[  Court  listen  intently. 
For  glory,  for  more  glory  on  the  earth ; 
And  here  I  '11  build  the  wonder  of  the  world. 
I  have  conceived  a  Temple  that  shall  stand 
Up  in  such  splendour  that  men  bright  from  it 
Shall  pass  with  a  light  glance  the  pyramids. 


no  HEROD 

I  '11  have  — 

Re-enter  Attendant. 
Ah  !  come  you  from  the  queen  ?     Fear  not. 
She  is  asleep  ?  \Murniur  of  satisfaction. 

Gadias.    \To  whom   Attendant   has   whispered^ 

She  is  fallen  in  a  deep  sleep. 
Herod.   Ah,  rouse  her  not. 
\To  Attendant.] 

You  did  not  touch  her?     No? 
You  did  not  speak  o'er  loud?    She  did  not  stir  then? 
Attend.    O  king  !  she  stirred  not  once. 
Herod.  Such  sleep  is  good. 

But  there  was  still  the  moving  of  the  breast  ? 
Attend.    O  king  — 

Herod.  \Hastily.'\  Yes  —  yes — I  understand — I  — 
Priest.  Sir, 

Each  moment  wasted  from  this  huge  eniprize 
The  Temple  — 

Herod.  [7<?  Attendant.]  Hither  !  Quietly  in  my  ear. 


HEROD  III 

I  say  —  you  saw  —  her  bosom  stirred? 

Attend.  I  saw  — 

Herod.   You  saw  !     It  is  enough  ! 
[To  Court.']  Bear  with  me  —  oh  ! 

I  dreamed  last  night  of  a  dome  of  beaten  gold 
To  be  a  counter-glory  to  the  Sun. 
There  shall  the  eagle  blindly  dash  himself, 
There  the  first  beam  shall  strike,  and  there  the  moon 
Shall  aim  all  night  her  argent  archery ; 
And  it  shall  be  the  tryst  of  sundered  stars, 
The  haunt  of  dead  and  dreaming  Solomon ; 
Shall  send  a  light  upon  the  lost  in  Hell, 
And  flashings  upon  faces  without  hope  — 

[^Murmur  of  sympathy. 
And  I  will  think  in  gold  and  dream  in  silver. 
Imagine  in  marble  and  in  bronze  conceive, 
Till  it  shall  dazzle  pilgrim  nations 
And  stammering  tribes  from  undiscovered  lands, 
Allure  the  living  God  out  of  the  bliss. 


112  HEROD 

And  all  the  streaming  seraphim  from  heaven. 

[Herod  looks  at  door  and  sits, 
\_A  murmur  of  admiratioii. 
That  bag  of  emeralds  give  it  to  me  —  so  : 
And  yonder  sack  of  rubies ;  I  will  gaze 
On  glittering  things. 

\_Sits  listlessly,  hands  down. 
Let  one  of  you  go  forth 
And  rouse  the  queen  —  not  roughly  be  it  done  — 
But  rouse  her  !     I  would  have  her  waked  from  sleep. 

\A  general  emba7'rassment. 
Why  linger  you ?     Is  it  not  easy?     Go  you, 
Bathsheba,  child,  and  touch  her  gently  —  thus. 
There  is  no  haste  for  her  to  come  —  I  am 
Not  over-eager,  and  will  wait  —  but  rouse  her  ! 
Rouse  her  —  or  —  go  ! 

\_Exit  Bathsheba  in  lingering  terror. 
Herod  again  turns  to  the  Court. 
Now,  sirs,  unceasingly 


HEROD  113 

Let  all  the  sounds  of  building  rise  to  me 
By  day,  by  night  —  and  now  let  anvils  clang, 
Melodious  axes  ring  through  Lebanon, 
Masons  let  me  behold  so  far  aloft 
They  crawl  like  flies,  ant-like  artificers, 
Swarming  with  tiny  loads,  and  labourers 
Hither  and  thither  murmuring  like  bees. 
Away  with  inspiration  of  these  words  ! 

\_Exeunt  Chief  Artificers. 
Is  Bathsheba  returned  ?     'T  is  a  light  task 
To  rouse  a  sleeping  woman,  to  awake  her. 
'T  is  all  I  ask  :   I  'd  not  compel  her  here  ; 
I  do  not  ask  things  out.  of  reason  —  only 
To  know  that  she  is  waked  —  to  know  —  to  know. 
Re-enter  Bathsheba,  who  whispers  to  Gadias. 

Gadias.    O  king,  the  queen  is  waked  ! 

Herod.  'Tis  all  I  ask. 

I  am  not  o'er-impatient.     Bathsheba, 

[Bathsheba  goes  trembling  up  to  the  King, 
8 


114  HEROD 

Knows  she  as  yet  I  am  returned? 

Bath.  O  king, 

I  — I  — 

Herod.    \_Quickly.'\     Ah,  yes!     Speak  not  —  no, 
speak  not,  child, 
I  understand  —  she  has  learned  it.     Bathsheba, 
Speak  low  now,  said  she  anything? 

Bath.  O  king, 

I  — I  — 

Herod.    No  matter.     No,  repeat  it  not ! 
I  can  so  well  imagine  those  first  words. 
But,  child,  you  heard  her  speak?     I  ask  no  more. 
You  heard  the  sound  of  spoken  words? 

Bath.  O  king  — 

Herod.   You  heard  her — yes  —  it  is  enough;  but 
I  — 

Salome.    Lo  !  the  musicians  whom  you  did  com- 
mand — 

Herod.   Touch  me  not  —  sister  —  ah  ! 

Salome.  Forgive  me,  brother 


HEROD  US 

Eiiter  Musicians. 
Herod.    Music,  O  music  !     Now  create  a  land 
From  lovely  chords,  that  land  where  we  would  be ; 
Where  life  no  longer  jars,  nor  jolts,  but  glides ; 
The  end  may  recompense  us,  but  meantime 
\_Rises  and  looks  at  door.']     Too  bare,  O  God,  too 

bare  thy  universe  I 
I  am  so  hurt  that  the  half-light  seems  good 
There  should  be  veils  between  us  and  the  sun. 

\Jifusk. 
Or  why  not  ever  moonlight,  ever  the  moon 
With  bathing  and  obliterating  beauty? 
Now  introduce  with  melody  a  life 
Which  we  can  live,  where  there  is  no  farewell, 
Nor  any  death,  but  — 

\_He  looks  towards  the  door  again,  rises  and 
sits  again. 
Salome.  Listen,  brother,  listen. 

{They  play  soft  music   before   the    King  j 


Ii6  HEROD 

after  a  while  he  starts  tip,  he  is  soothed 
for  a  moment. 
Herod.    Bathsheba,  go  again  and  ask  the  queen 
To  come  to  me.  \_A  jnovement  and  murmur. 

I  am  not  mad  !     Look  not 
So  wildly !  [Herod  rises.     Music  stops. 

Herod.    Say  to  her  I  have  been  patient, 
I  have  been  very  patient.    \_Moves  downJ\    Ask  of  her, 
That  for  the  sake  of  that  one  niglit  when  I, 

\Taking  Bathsheba  by  the  arm. 
Catching  her  thus,  burst  thro'  the  robber  swords, 
And  she  feared  not,  but  looked  up  in  my  eyes, 
That  she  will  come  to  me  when  she  hath  robed. 

\_Beating  his  hands  gently  together. 
But  oh,  oh,  she  must  come  ! 

Phys.  O  king,  the  minstrel 

That  singeth  to  the  dulcimer  — 

Herod.    \_Piits  the  Physician  aside.'\ 

[To  Bathsheba.]  Say  to  her 


HEROD  117 

I  have  guessed  sweet  messages,  fond  brevities, 
But  you,  so  young,  know  that  the  sight  is  much. 

Gadias.  Go,child,and  bid  the  queen  to  robe  and  come. 

Herod.    I  have  been  very  patient. 

Salome.  Lo,  the  minstrel ! 

O  Hsten,  brother,  listen. 

\The  Boy  sings  to  a  dulcimer,  but  as  the  last 
notes  die  away,  the  King  rises  slowly. 

Herod.  I  have  a  fear  ! 

Gadias.    Will  you  not  make,  O  king, 
Some  gift  to  the  sweet  singer? 

Herod.  Take  this  ruby. 

Re-enter  Bathsheba,  who  whispers  to  Gadias. 
Ah,  she  will  come? 

Gadus.  The  queen  but  waits  to  robe  her 

And  she  will  come. 

Herod.    [iS'/Vi-.]   Why  doth  the  child  for  ever 
Pour  in  your  ear  the  tale  which  you  repeat? 
And  you,  Gadias,  think  you  not  the  king 


Ii8  HEROD 

That  is  to  come,  might  with  pure  gentleness 
Found  such  a  kingdom  as  no  sword  could  make? 

Gadias.    O  king,  a  folly  1 

Herod.  Is  it  —  is  it  ?     Ah  ! 

The  queen  !    She  comes  not  yet  —  and  oh,  Gadias  — 
Oh,  if  she  cannot  come  ! 

Gadias.  Cannot ! 

Herod.  I  say 

Cannot !     She  would  —  she  hath  forgiven  all. 
Yet  cannot  traverse  with  her  feet  those  yards 
That  separate  us.     If  she  would  —  but  cannot ! 
I  tell  you  we  are  fooled  by  the  eye,  the  ear. 
These  organs  muffle  us  from  that  real  world 
That  lies  about  us,  we  are  duped  by  brightness. 
The  ear,  the  eye  doth  make  us  deaf  and  blind ; 
Else  should  we  be  aware  of  all  our  dead, 
Who  pass  above  us,  through  us  and  beneath  us. 

\_Recovering. 
O  little  Bathsheba  \_She  moves  down.'],  how  beautiful 


HEROD  119 

You  seem  —  for  you  have  twice  gone  in  to  her 
And  twice  come  back.     I  have  a  fear. 

\_/?ises  wildly. 
Phys.  O  king  ! 

filter  at  a  sign  from  Physician  a  Troupe  of  Danc- 
ing Girls  who  perform  a  slow,  elaborate  dance ; 
but  at  its  height,  and  when  the  movements  are 
groiving  furious,  suddenly  the  King  is  seen  in 
the  midst,  unkempt,  ragged,  and  scattering  the 
Dancers. 
Herod.  Mariamne  ! 
Gadias.    [  To    Physician.]      Now,    what 's    best  ? 

Quickly  devise. 
Herod.    Mariamne  !     Mariamne  ! 
A  Councillor.    [T'*?  Physician.]     Now  Judgea 
Hangs  on  thy  wit. 

Phys.  Myself  am  crazed  almost. 

Herod.    Mariamne,  Mariamne,  Mariamne, 
Come,  come  ! 


I20  HEROD 

\_He  rushes  tip   the  galleiy  to  the  door,  at 
which    he    casts    hitnseif,   sinking   ex- 
hausted on  steps.     A7nid  the  consterna- 
tion, Bathsheba  goes  up,  and  taking  his 
ha7id,  leads    him   gently  down    tike    a 
child  until  he  again  sits  o?i  the  throne. 
Cypros.    \_Placing   her   hands   on    his   shoulders.'] 
My  child, 
I  bore  thee  'neath  a  wild  moon  by  the  sea. 

[Herod  puts  Cypros's  hands  gently  away. 
Gadias.    O  Herod,  thou  art  royal,  rise  and  reign. 
Herod.    \_Recovering  himself.']     I  had  forgotten.    I 
am  still  a  king  ! 
Bring  me  my  crown,  and  set  it  on  my  head. 

[Gadias ////j'  his  crown  ojt  his  head. 
Gadias.    All  hail !  all  hail !    Herod,  king  of  the  Jews  ! 

[  Court  repeat  the  cries. 
Herod.    Bring  forth  the  purple  robe  and  vest  me 
in  it. 


HEROD  121 

[Cup-Bearer  brings  his  robe.     TJiey  crown 
and  robe  him. 
Summon  the  queen,  and  on  the  instant :   I  '11 
Not  tarry  for  long  robe  or  ornament. 
Councillors,  captains,  priests  !     Is  there  delay? 
Look  on  me  and  look  well  !     Am  I  that  Herod 
That  ere  the  beard  was  on  me,  burned  up  cities. 
That  fired  the  robbers  out  of  Galilee  ? 
That  shook  the  Parthian  and  left  him  dead, 
Blew  like  a  blast  away  the  Arabian, 
Who  grappled  to  my  side  great  Antony, 
And  after  bound  Augustus  as  my  friend? 

The  Court.    Herod,  Herod,  Herod  ! 

Herod.    \Through  murrnur.']     Am  I  that  Herod 
Who  builded  yonder  amphitheatre 
Rivalling  Rome?  who  lured  into  these  ports 
Wealth  of  the  world,  a  Temple  have  conceived 
That  shall  dispyramid  the  Egyptian  kings? 
That  so  have  lived,  wrought,  suffered,  battled,  loved? 


122  HEROD 

I  have  outspanned  life  and  the  worm  of  God, 

Imagining  I  am  already  dead 

Begins  to  prey  on  me.     Am  I  that  Herod  ? 

[  Cries  of '  Herod,  Herod,  Herod  ! ' 
Then  on  the  instant  let  the  queen  be  brought. 
I  '11  see  her  with  my  eyes  in  flesh  and  blood ; 
Oh,  nothing  yet  hath  stopped  me  :  to  my  will 
No  limit  hath  been  set.     Summon  the  queen, 
Or  I  will  call  not  earthly  vengeance  down. 
I  have  exhausted  earth,  I  '11  fetch  the  lightning 
And  call  on  thunder  like  an  emperor  !    \Moves  down. 
And  henceforth  I  discard  Augustus's  aid ; 
I  '11  bribe  Jehovah  as  my  new  ally, 
Flatter  the  Holy  One  to  be  my  friend  — 
I'll_I'll— I  '11  — 

\_Falls  back  into  Physician's  arms. 
If  you  would  avert  a  doom 
Unheard,  unthinkable  —  summon  the  queen  ! 
Phys.  There  is  no  other  way. 


HEROD  123 

Gadias.    [^To  AiTENDANT.]   You  then  go  forth 
And  bring  the  queen  with  ceremony  in. 

\Exeunt    Attendants.      After     a    pause 
Herod  again  starts  up. 
Herod.    \_Standingl\    Why,   if  I   am    denied    the 
sight  of  her, 
If  there  hath  been  mischance  to  her  —  I  say  not 
There  hath  been  —  yet  so  fineless  is  my  will, 
I  '11  re-create  her  out  of  endless  yearning, 
And  flesh  shall  cleave  to  bone,  and  blood  shall  run. 
Do  I  not  know  her,  every  vein?     Can  I 
Not  imitate  in  furious  ecstasy 
What  God  hath  coldly  made  ?     I  '11  re-create 
My  love  with  bone  for  bone  and  vein  for  vein. 
The  eyes,  the  eyes  again,  the  hands,  the  hair. 
And  that  which  I  have  made,  O  that  shall  love  me. 

\\Vith  arms  extended  towards  door,  he 
throws  himself  on  throne.  He  buries 
his  head  in  anguish.     Steps  are  heard 


124  HEROD 

and  the  embalmed  Queen  is  carried 
in  and  laid  at  the  foot  of  the  throne. 
There  is  a  pause  of  pained  expectancy. 
Herod  slowly  raises  his  face  and  de- 
scetids.  He  touches  her  on  the  fore- 
head a7id  stands  suddenly  rigid  with 
a  fixed  and  vacant  stare. 
Phys.    He  is  stricken,  and  in  catalepsy  bound. 

\_Trumpets  are  heard. 
A  Cry.    From    Rome,   from  Rome,  way   for   the 
messengers 
From  Rome  ;  on  Caesar's  business.     Make  a  path 
For  Caesar's  envoys  !     Way  tliere  ! 
Knock.    Enter  Envoys,  who  make  obeisance  to  Herod. 
1ST  E.  Caesar,  O  king, 

Confers  on  thee  the  kingdom  of  Arabia, 
On  thee  and  on  thy  heirs.     What  Herod's  sword 
Hath  won,  let  Herod's  wisdom  pacify  ! 
'T  is  Cresar's  pleasure  ;  and  with  this  he  sends 


HEROD  125 

A  sceptre  all  inlaid  with  western  gems, 
The  symbol  of  this  added  sovereignty. 

[Herod  remains  jnotioniess. 
Gadi.\s.    The  king  is  stricken,  and  can  stir  not,  sirs. 
1ST  E.    O  thou  Judcea  !     O  thou  frozen  land  ! 
2ND  E.    O  thou  mute  East ! 
2RD  E.  Motionless  Orient ! 

The  Court.  All  hail,  O  hail,  Herod  !  Herod,  all  hail ! 
Salome.    \_To  Physicun.]     O  lives  there  any  hope 

for  him  at  last? 
Phys.  Rest,  and  a  world  of  leaves,  and  stealing  stream 
Or  solemn  swoon  of  music  may  allure 
Homeward  the  ranging  spirit  of  the  king. 
These  things  avail :  but  these  things  are  of  man. 
To  me  indeed  it  seems,  who  with  dim  eyes 
Behold  this  Herod  motionless  and  mute. 
To  me  it  seems  that  they  who  grasp  the  world, 
The  kingdom  and  tlie  power  and  the  glory, 
Must  pay  with  deepest  misery  of  spirit, 


126  HEROD 

Atoning  unto  God  for  a  brief  brightness, 

And  ever  ransom,  lilce  tliis  rigid  king, 

Thie  outward  victory  with  inward  loss. 

Ch.   Priest.    Now   unto    Him   who   brought    His 
people  forth 

Out  of  the  wilderness,  by  day  a  cloud, 

By  night  a  pillar  of  fire ;  to  Him  alone. 

Look  we  at  last  and  to  no  other  look  we. 

[^S/cza/y  and  silently  the  tvhole  Court  melt 
away,  one  or  two  coming  and  looking 
on  the  King,  then  departing.  Herod 
is  left  alone  by  the  litter,  standing  mo- 
tionless. The  Curtain  descends :  then 
rises,  and  it  is  night,  with  a  few  stars. 
It  descends,  and  again  rises,  a7id  now 
it  is  the  glijnnier  of  dawn  which  falls 
upon  Herod  and  Mariamne,  he  still 
sta?iding  rigid  and  with  fixed  stare  in 
the  cataleptic  trance. 


STEPHEN    PHILLIPS 


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NEW  POEMS 

Including  "  Iole  :  A  Tragedy  in  One  Act"; 
**  Launcelot  and  Guinevere,"  "  Endymton,  " 
and  many  hitherto  unpublished  poems.  1 2mo. 
^1.25  net.  Half  morocco,  $4.00  net.  Postage 
10  cents. 

"  Mr.  Phillips  is  a  poet,  one  of  the  half-dozen  men  of  the  younger 
generation,  whose  writings  contain  the  indefinable  quality  which  makes 
tor  permanence." — London   Titnes. 

"  It  is  a  delight,  after  picking  up  an  armful  of  recent  volumes  of 
verse  and  discarding  them  one  by  one  v\ith  more  or  less  audible  expres- 
sions of  disgust,  to  find  this  new  one  by  Mr.  Phillips,  and  to  linger 
over  it." — Fhilade!phia  Public  Ledger. 

♦'  I  have  read  the  '  New  Poems  '  of  Stephen  Phillips  with  the 
greatest  interest.  In  my  judgment  it  is  the  best  volume  that  lie  Las 
ever  published,  and  if  there  has  existed  previously  any  doubt  as  to  his 
real  quality  as  a  poet  this  volume  ought  to  satisfy  the  most  sceptical. 
The  poem  '  Endymion,'  at  the  beginning  of  the  volume,  and  the  one- 
act  drama  at  the  end  are  exceedingly  beautiful,  and  show  a  command  of 
style  that  seems  to  me  superior  to  anything  Mr.  Phillips  has  previously 
published." — fVm.  Lyon  Phelps,  of  Tale  Uni-versity. 


Paolo   and    Francesca 

A     TRAGEDY     IN     FOUR     ACTS 
By   STEPHEN    PHILI>IPS 

TVith  Frontispiece  after  the  Painting  by  G.  F.   fVatts,  R.  A. 
Twenty-ninth  Thousand     lamo     Price,  $1.25  net      Postage  8  cents 


"  Nothing  finer  has  come  to  us  from  an  English  pen  in  the 
way  of  a  poetic  and  literary  play  than  this  smce  the  appearance 
of  Taylor's  '  Philip  Van  Artevelde.'" — New  York  Times. 

"  A  beautiful  piece  of  literature,  disclosing  the  finest  imagi- 
nation,  the  most  delicate  instinct,  and  the  most  sincere  art.  It 
is  too  early  to  say  that  it  is  great,  but  it  is  not  too  soon  to 
affirm  that  nothing  so  promising  has  come  from  the  hand  of  an 
English  or  American  poet  of  late  years." — Outlook. 

"  The  play  is  a  powerful  one,  and  Mr.  Phillips  maintains  in 
it  his  wonderful  pitch  of  style,  which  was  so  striking  in  his 
earlier  poems." — Independertt. 

"  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  '  Paolo  and  Francesca  '  is 
the  most  important  example  of  English  dramatic  poetry  that 
has  appeared  since  Browning  died.  ...  In  Stephen 
Phillips  we  have  a  man  who  will  prove  that  the  finest  achieve- 
ments of  English  poetry  are  a  continuing  possession,  and  not 
solely  a  noble  inheritance." — Brooklyn  Daily  Eagle. 

"' Paolo  and  Francesca '  has  beauty,  passion,   and  power. 
The  poem  deserves  a  wide  reading  on  account  of  its 
intrinsic  merit  and  interest." — Philadelphia  Press. 

"  The  reader  m.iy  turn  to  '  Paolo  and  Francesca'  with  the 
assurance  of  passing  an  hour  of  the  highest  possible  pleasure. 
.  .  .  One  of  the  most  exalted  histories  of  human  pas- 
sion and  human  frailty  has  received  a  fitting  frame  of  verse. 
.  .  .  It  is  certain  that  his  first  act  only  would  sufiice  in 
his  facility  of  language,  vigor  of  thought,  intensity  of  emotion^ 
conception  of  dramatic  possibilities,  and  all  that  goes  to  make 
the  drama  great,  to  give  the  a»rf ior  a  settled  place  among  the 
best  of  the  younger  men." — Chicago  Evening  Post. 


MARPESSA 

By 
STEPHEN   PHILLIPS 

With  Seven  Illustrations 

By  PHILIP  CONNARD 

:  SIXTEENTH    THOUSAND 

Square  i6mo  (51^  x  4^^)  Art  Green  Cloth,  50  cents  net 
Green  Leather,  75  cents  net 


Mr.  WILLIAM   WATSON   in  Fortnightly 
Review 

"  In  '  Marpessa '  he  has  demonstrated  what  I  should 
hardly  have  thought  demonstrable  —  that  another  poem 
can  be  finer  than  '  Christ  in  Hades.'  I  had  long  be- 
lieved, and  my  belief  was  shared  by  not  a  few  that  the 
poetic  possibilities  of  classic  myth  were  exhausted  ;  yet 
the  youngest  of  our  poets  takes  this  ancient  story  and 
makes  it  newly  beautiful,  kindles  it  into  tremulous  life, 
clothes  it  with  the  mystery  of  interwoven  delight  and 
pain,  and  in  the  best  sense  keeps  it  classic  all  the 
while." 


JOHN  LANE  COMPANY:    New  York 


THE  WORKS  of  LAURENCE  HOPE 

INDIA'S    LOVE    LYRICS 

COLLECTED    AND    ARRANGED    IN    VERSE 

By  LAURENCE    HOPE 
i2nio.    $i.50  net,  postage  lo  cents 


STARS  OF  THE  DESERT:  POEMS 

By  LAURENCE    HOPE 
l2mo.    $1.50  net,  postage  10  cents 


LAST    POEMS 

TRANSLATIONS    FROM    THE    BOOK    OF    INDIAN    LOVE 

By  LAURENCE    HOPE 

Uniform  with  "  India's  Love  L)Tics  "  and  "  Stars  of  the  Desert" 

i2mo.    $1.50  net,  postage  10  cents 

"Last  Poems"  contains  all  the  additional  poems  by  the  late   author 
of  these  well-known  songs  of  the  East. 

SOME     OPINIONS     OF     CRITICS 

The  Baliimcre  Sun  —  No  one  can  read  these  poems  witliout  feelinc;  that 
the  author  has  made  a  valuable  transcription  into  English  literature  of  much 
of  the  characteristic  thought  and  feeling  of  the  East.  These  poems  are  gen- 
uine lyrics,  for  they  give  us  true  glimpses  into  the  heart  of  men. 

The  Boston  Evening^  Transcript — Laurence  Hope  is  a  thorough  artist 
to  his  finger-lips,  and  his  choice  of  words  and  images  is  as  keen  and  exact  as 
his  ability  to  adapt  Indian  literature  to  the  more  prosaic  mood  and  tongue  of 
the  Anglo-Saxon. 

The  Athenerum  —  Laurence  Hope  has  caught  admirably  the  dominant 
notes  of  this  Indian  love  poetry,  its  delirious  ab.sorption  in  the  instant,  its 
out-of-door  air,  its  melancholy.  Slender  brown  limbs  stir  silently  in  the 
garden  where  the  flying  foxes  cross  the  moon,  in  the  hot,  jasmine-scented 
jungle,  among  the  pmk  almond  blossoms  of  Kandahar.  And  always  there  is 
the  poignant  sense  of  the  sweetness  of  love,  a  moment's  salvage  from  the 
flux  of  years. 


THE   POEMS   OF 

WILLIAM    WATSON 

EDITED  AND  ARRANGED  WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION 

By   J.  A.  SPENDER 

In  Two  Volumes.    With  Portrait  and  many  New  Poems 
i2mo.    $2.50  net,  postage  18  cents 


y^-^^j—  William  Watson  is,  above  all  things,  an  artist  who  is  proud  of  his 
calling  and  conscientious  in  every  syllable  that  he  writes.  To  appreciate 
his  work  you  must  take  it  as  a  whole,  for  he  is  in  line  with  the  high  priests 
of  poetry,  reared,  like  Ion,  in  the  shadow  of  the  Delphic  presences  and 
memories,  and  weighing  every  word  of  his  utterance  before  it  is  given  to 
the  world. 

Aiheneeu7it—  His  poetry  is  a  "  criticism  of  life,"  and,  viewed  as  such,  it  is 
magnificent  in  its  lucidity,  its  elegance,  its  dignity.  ...  We  revere  and  ad- 
mire Mr.  Watson's  pursuit  of  a  splendid  ideal  ;  and  we  are  sure  that  his 
artistic  self-mastery  will  be  rewarded  by  a  secure  place  in  the  ranks  of  our 
poets.  .  .  .  We  may  express  our  belief  that  Mr.  Watson  will  keep  his  high 
and  honorable  station  when  many  showier  but  shallower  reputations  have 
withered  away,  and  must  figure  in  any  representative  anthology  of  English 
poetry.  .  .  .  "Wordsworth's  Grave"  is  in  our  judgment  Mr.  Watson's 
masterpiece  ...  its  music  is  graver  and  deeper,  its  language  is  purer  and 
clearer,  than  the  frigid  droning  and  fugitive  beauties  of  the  "Elegy  in  a 
Country  Churchyard." 

WesUninster  Gazette  —  .  .  ■  No  discerning  critic  could  doubt  that  there 
are  more  elements  of  permanence  in  Mr.  Watson's  poems  than  in  those  of 
any  of  his  present  contemporaries.  ...  A  very  treasury  of  jewelled  aphorisms, 
as  profound  and  subtle  in  wisdom  and  truth  as  they  are  consummately 
felicitous  in  expression. 

Bookman  —  From  the  very  first  in  these  columns  we  have  pleaded  by  sober 
argument,  not  by  hysterical  praise,  Mr.  Watson's  right  to  the  foremost  place 
among  our  living  poets  The  book  is  a  collection  of  works  of  art  like  a 
cabinet  of  gems. 

.V/^c/a/i'r  — There  is  a  pleasure  in  the  possession  of  a  complete  edition  of 
a  great  writer's  works.  .  .  .  We  must  apologize  for  quoting  so  copiously,  but 
the  book  is  so  full  of  beautiful  things  that  in  his  pleasure  at  seeing  them  all 
together  the  critic  is  irresistibly  tempted  to  take  them  out  and  remind  his 
readers  of  them  separately. 

St.  James's  Gazette  — The  publication  of  these  volumes  confers  a  distinct 
benefit  on  contemporary  thought,  contemporary  poetry,  and  on  English 
literature  in  a  wider  sense. 


RECENT  POETRY 


A  SHROPSHIRE  LAD.  By  A.  E.  Housman.  NeiAJ 
Edition.  121110.  Cloth,  $1.00  net.  Half  morocco, 
$3.00  net.      Postage  5  cents. 

The  Sun,  NewTark  — "  Mr.  Housman's  verse  ha»  a  very  rare  charm,  due  to 
its  blending  of  asubilued  and  poignant  sadness  with  the  old  pagan  glorification 
ol  the  beauty  and  the  sacrcdncss  of  youth." 

(;*.:(>  Bcti  —  "The  best  in'  A  Shropshire  Lad'  is  altogether  memorable; 
you  cannot  chake  it  oiT  or  quote  it  awry." 

Brcoklyn  Eagit  — "  Something  to  please  on  every  page." 

THE  FOOL  OF  THE  WORLD,  AND  OTHER  POEMS. 

By  Arthur   Symons.        izmo.       $1-50   net.       Half 
morocco,  J5.00  net.      Postage  15  cents. 

Ntzu  Tor*  Evtning  Ptst  —  "Stands  at  the   head  of  all  British   poets  of  his 
generation." 
Bookman — "  One  of  the  truest  poets  that  modern  England  owns." 

ACTi^ON,  AND  OTHER  POEMS.  By  John  Erskine. 
izmo.      j;i.25  net.      Postage  10  cents. 

Providtnci  Journal  —  "A  sensitive  feeling  for  rhythm  and  the  ability  to 
select  intuitively  the  right  word." 

THE  DAYS  THAT  PASS.  By  Helen  Huntington. 
i2mo.  $1.25  net.  Half  morocco,  S4. 00  net.  Postage 
5  cents. 

Louiivtllt  Courier- Journal  —  "The  verses  ring  with  the  deep  strength  of 
Idealized  love  and  higher  ambition  ungratified  but  none  the  less  inspiring." 

NIGHT  AND  MORNING.  By  Katrina  Trask. 
i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.25  net.  Postage  5  cents.  Flexible 
leather,  $2.00  net.      Half  morocco,  ^4.00  net. 

"  A  dramatic  poem  dealing  with  the  modern  problem  of  marriage  in  a  most 
striking  and  original  manner." 

Ntw  fork  Timts  —  "An  inspiring  message  to  humanity,  a  noteworthy  con- 
tribution to  literature." 

THE  SOUL'S  PROGRESS,  AND  OTHER  POEMS. 
By  Louis  V.  Ledoux.  i2nio.  51.25  net.  Half  mo- 
rocco, $4.00  net.      Postage  10  cents. 

Bolton  Tranicrift  —  "The  society  for  getting  good  out  of  little  things,  the 
cult  which  preaches  that  happiness  is  to  be  found  anywhere  and  evcrywher*, 
have  a  prophet  in  Louis  V.  Ledoux." 


The   International   Studio 

An   Illustrated  Magazine  of  Fine  and  Applied  Art 


50  cents  per  Month.     Annual  Subscription,  $S'00 

Three  Months'  Trial  Subscription,  ^i.oo 

Specimen  Copy  sent,  post  free,  for  10  cents 


T  is  the  aim  of  "  The  International  Studio "  to  treat 
of  every  Art  and  Craft  —  Architecture,  Sculpture, 
Painting,  Ceramics,  Metal,  Glass,  Furniture,  Decora- 
tion, Design,  Booicbinding,  Illustrating,  Photography,  Lithog- 
raphy, Enamel,  Jewelry,  Needlework,  Gardening,  etc.  The 
principal  writers  on  Art  are  contributors  to  its  pages.  Many 
original  illustrations,  reproduced  in  every  variety  of  black  and 
white  process,  half-tone,  line,  photogravure,  etc.,  are  to  be 
found  in  each  number.  Color  plates  of  real  value  are  to  be 
found  in  every  issue.  No  magazine  can  boast  a  more  artis- 
tic and  sumptuous  get-up  than  "  The  International  Studio." 
Everyone  interested  in  Art,  professionally  or  otherwise, 
should  read  it ;  for  the  magazine  keeps  its  readers  au  fa:t 
with  the  doings  of  the  art  world,  both  literary  and  technical. 

JOHN     LANE     COMPANY 

114  WEST    32d    STREET.   NEW    YORK 


y4-i!f^y\^. 


PR5172   H47    1909 
Phillips,    Stephen,     1868- 

1915. 
Herod 


AA    000  605221 


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